


The Light at the End

by likeabluethread



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Erotica, F/M, Love, Modern Era, Social Justice, Youkai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-21
Updated: 2013-07-21
Packaged: 2017-12-20 22:24:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 39,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/892598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeabluethread/pseuds/likeabluethread
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In contemporary Tokyo, where demons are stigmatized and must hide their identities, two lonely souls find each other on a train. Sess/Kag, explicit, AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Downtown Tokyo flew past the train windows, anemic trees and highrises and neon shop signs blurring into a dingy wash. The scent of humans was so thick Sesshoumaru could barely breathe; perfume and stale cigarette smoke, sex and despair, illness and sweat and arrogance. If only his car hadn’t broken down (a bloody Jaguar; honestly, expensive cars shouldn’t break!); if only he hadn’t given the chauffer the day off; if only he’d had a little more time to arrange a different mode of transport. He hated taking the train.

One strong hand gripped the triangle that dangled from the ceiling as more humans crowded around him. He glared up at his hand, with its blunt human nails, and at the bracelet he could feel but not see just under the cuff of his shirt – the bracelet that hid his appearance from the world. He thought for a moment about what he looked like at the moment – black hair rather than his natural silver, dull brown eyes rather than the rich gold he’d inherited from his sire, tanned human skin instead of his dam’s marked alabaster. He hated hiding his true appearance. 

The train lurched, and he found himself shoved towards the seats that lined the sides of the train by the press of the crowd. He had to take a step forward to keep his balance as a large man behind him was thrown against his back, muttering apologies. His leg brushed the knee of a young woman in a dove-grey skirt suit who was sitting with a book; a brief scent of rain, clean and cool, reached him, and he inhaled involuntarily, grateful for the brief reprieve in the fetid space. The woman in question blinked owlishly and glanced up at him in confusion, as though she’d forgotten where she was. As she took in his face, his broad chest, the bunched muscles of his upraised arm, the elegant lines of his (expensive) suit, a rush of desire colored her scent – no longer cool spring rain, but rainforest at noon, lush and aromatic. He knew what would come next – she’d make an innocuous comment about how crowded the train was or how wet the spring had been, and then try to discreetly slip her phone number into his pocket. His lip curled in disdain. He hated women who threw themselves at him for his looks or his money. 

When he lowered his eyes to glare at her, however, she had already returned to her book, nothing remaining of her momentary lapse save a faint blush across her cheeks and a lingering scent of embarrassment. One eyebrow rose; if he’d been human, he would never have known she found him attractive. And now she was ignoring him. Unusual.

As the train sped farther from the city center, the crowd thinned; every new stop allowed a bit more fresh air into the train car, and soon Sesshoumaru could breathe again. He remained near the young woman even so; her scent was calming, carrying none of the reeking misery or depravity he was so used to in humans. He soon found himself tracking her reactions to what she was reading through the variations in her scent – something would confuse her, then there would be a rush of elation and satisfaction as she solved her puzzle. Excitement at some new revelation. A twist of poignant sadness, a wistful sigh.

He was still nearly an hour from his own stop when the old woman sitting next to his little human diversion got up and hobbled off the train. After a moment’s hesitation, Sesshoumaru sat, suppressing his disgust at the warmth of the seat and the lingering scent of age and infirmity. From this proximity, the woman’s clear, clean scent was much more prominent, soon overwhelming the other scents around him. He closed his eyes in relief.

When he opened them, he realized that she had shifted a bit, tilting her knees ever so slightly away from him and shifting her book to the far side of her lap. He found that from that angle he had a clear view of the words on the page, which he hadn’t tried to decipher from his upside-down vantage point while standing. His mask of indifference almost shattered. She was reading an academic treatise on material culture and social memory. All those emotions – that elation, that wistful sadness – had been raised by scholarly analysis of textiles and pottery?

His eyes slid over the page at hand, and he found himself drawn into the argument. The author was insisting that the feeling of using an object, the weight of it in your hand, the roughness or smoothness, the blisters it gives you, where it makes you sweat, all affect it meaning. The example he was using was of a katana. The young woman turned the page. The author was making an elegant argument, he had to admit, vividly evoking the feel of the pommel in your hand, the balance of the blade, the pressure it takes to pierce skin. But – what? No. The description of that defensive technique was off; the author was describing a feeling of weakness being overcome, of momentum being used to slide through a moment where the wrist could barely support the weight of the blade otherwise. That was _wrong;_ such a moment would mean death in an actual battle.

“Your book is incorrect,” he said quietly, turning his eyes to the window opposite him as the young woman looked at him with disbelieving eyes.

“Pardon?” she asked. Her voice was quiet, but with a sweetness to it that he found he appreciated. He met her eyes for a moment before turning away again – they were blue.

“I apologize for reading over your shoulder; I merely glanced at your page and found it interesting. But that is not the way that maneuver feels. The ‘moment of overcome weakness’ is beautifully symbolic and works well with his argument, but there is no such moment in that technique; it would be extremely dangerous.” He hazarded a glance over at her; she was watching his face with something akin to amazement.

“That’s fascinating; I’ve been finding the same thing throughout, with things that I have some experience of. His analysis of performing the tea ceremony and tying an obi is just the same – beautiful, but wrong.” She smiled at him, an open, friendly smile, with no hidden agendas. “Do you study martial arts?”

“I suppose you could say that; I am also a scholar of antique weaponry.” It was close to the truth; he couldn’t really tell her that he knew every blade since the Kamakura period because he trained with them as they were invented.

Her eyes had lit with interest, and her scent was sparkling with enthusiasm. He almost smiled despite himself as she began asking him about precisely how and why the author of her book was mistaken.

Many more stops flew past, and he found himself deeply drawn into the conversation with this woman. She was quick to make connections, drawing powerful insights from seemingly innocent evidence; and throughout, her unbridled enthusiasm, her passion for knowledge, made the air around them shimmer giddily. Perhaps, Sesshoumaru mused, perhaps he could do with a bit more companionship in his life. That said, he hadn’t actually tried flirting in decades; women came to him, not the other way around. He found himself at a loss.

“You know,” he said during a lull in their conversation, “most people exchange names before diving into academic analysis together.” Crimson blossomed across her cheeks and down her neck. He found it inexplicably adorable.

“Eh, sorry,” she stammered, her smile turned shy. “I’m Higurashi Kagome.”

“Taisho Sesshoumaru,” he answered, waiting for the flash of recognition in her eyes. It never came, and he found himself profoundly relieved. She really wasn’t like the other women, the ones who were after the ‘wealthiest’ and ‘most eligible’ from the fashion magazines. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Higurashi-san.”

She blushed again, murmuring something in return. Suddenly her phone went off, startling both of them. Her blush deepened, and she fumbled in her purse for a moment before locating the source of the noise, silencing the ringer, and checking the caller ID.

“Oh, dear – excuse me for being rude, Taisho-san, but this is my ride at the station; I think I need to take this.” She bit her lower lip, looking abashed.  
  
“Of course,” he answered calmly, finding himself surprised by this little woman again. She hit a button and greeted her caller as he mused on her manners. There weren’t many people in Tokyo who would hesitate to take a phone call in the middle of a conversation with a stranger, or apologize for it if they did. And she seemed to indicate that she would have ignored the call completely if it hadn’t been pressing. He gave an almost-imperceptible shake of his head. She was a puzzle, wasn’t she. He looked out the window again, but his full attention was on the woman beside him.

“Hey, kiddo,” she was saying, a playful happiness lacing her scent. “How’s it going?” Given the noise of the train and the fact that her phone was pressed to the ear on the far side of her head, he couldn’t make out the reply, but her scent took an abrupt turn for the worse – she was worried, almost panicked. “Oh, no! Is she OK?” Another pause. The panic calmed, but the worry didn’t abate. “Souta, calm down. You take care of Kotoko; don’t worry about me.” An overlaying tinge of exasperation. “Souta. I’ll be fine. Now get in the car and go.” Another pause. “Don’t worry about it. Honest, Souta, I’ll be fine. Tell Koto-chan I love her.” Pause. “You too, kiddo. See you tonight.” She bit her lip as she ended the call, concern still lacing her scent. Sesshoumaru found that he didn’t like it.

“Is everything all right?” he asked quietly, meeting the young woman’s worried eyes.  
  
“I think so – my little brother’s girlfriend is having an allergic reaction, and he’s had to take her to the hospital.” She was chewing on her lower lip again, clearly anxious about her friend. “He was just calling to let me know he couldn’t meet me at the station; like I care about that more than poor Kotoko’s health!” She shook her head, and Sesshoumaru noted the righteous indignation that was swirling through the air with the scent of rain.

“You will have no difficulty getting home?” he inquired, surprised by the surge of possessive concern he felt. It suddenly occurred to him that he was unused to being surprised – and this woman managed to surprise him at every turn.

She shrugged, not really engaging with the question. “I’ll be fine; I can walk.”

He looked pointedly down at her shoes; they were perfectly serviceable black pumps, but the high heels were not intended for long walks. “How far is it to where you’re going?”

She looked a little embarrassed. “It’s not that far, it’s just a couple miles.” For one, that was too far; for another, he could smell her discomfort – she wasn’t telling the full truth.

“A couple?” he pressed, frowning.

“Six and a half,” she sighed, giving in. She glared down at her feet. “And there are no buses. Stupid interview,” she grumbled. “I’d have been in sensible shoes otherwise.”

“You can’t possibly walk six and a half miles in those shoes, with that bag,” he said, indicating the overnight bag on the luggage rack above her head. She opened her mouth to ask how he knew it was hers, then glanced up at it; the luggage tag was in plain view, her name printed in bold black letters. She closed her mouth again. “You will take a taxi.” His voice brooked no opposition.

She gave him a rueful smile. “That’d be great, except that it’s way too much money.” She looked away, clearly uncomfortable with the new turn in the conversation. “I appreciate your concern, but really, I’ll be fine.”

He scowled. He was not used to being defied, and the thought of this young woman walking alone, in high heels, unable even to run should anything untoward happen – it was insupportable. Especially since the sun was already low in the sky, and it would be dark before she was halfway there.

He drew his wallet out of his pocket, and her eyes widened. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” she gasped, waving her hands in protest. “I am _not_ taking your money.”

He drew out a wad of bills, quickly calculating how much it would cost to take a taxi seven miles, plus a generous tip. He separated the right amount plus an extra thousand yen just in case.

“Higurashi-san,” he said carefully, tucking his wallet back into his pocket. “You have to understand. It’s late; you’re alone; it’ll be dark soon. It will take you a minimum of two hours, probably more given your footwear.” She had a look of mulish determination on her face; he wasn’t getting anywhere. With a mental sigh, he adjusted his approach. Given how she worried for her brother’s girlfriend, Sesshoumaru hoped that appealing to her desire to look after others would make her more inclined to accept his offer. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight now knowing whether or not you reached home safely.”

It was a good strategy; the look in her eyes softened. “Taisho-san,” she said gently, “I appreciate your generosity and kindness – really I do. I’m touched, and very grateful to you. But I can’t possibly accept.” Her eyes crinkled. “I don’t accept gifts from anyone who’s not practically family,” she said, grinning. The laughter faded from her eyes, and her voice was serious as she added in an undertone, not meeting his eyes, “And I don’t accept charity from anyone.”

He sighed, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Very well, then, Higurashi-san,” he started, deciding on a new tack. “I am a businessman. Would you consider a loan?” Her eyes had gone wide; she was staring at him in bemusement.

“But...” she stammered. “I can’t ...”

“Perhaps,” he started, “you could repay me with your company?” Realizing from the widening of her eyes what the must have sounded like, he backpedaled furiously. “I just mean –” he cleared his throat, unused to feeling flustered, but horrified by what he’d inadvertently implied. “I just mean that I have enjoyed our conversation, and would consider it a great privilege to be able to continue it.” Her eyes were still wary, but she didn’t seem quite as alarmed. “There is no need to accept,” he sighed, turning his eyes away from her. “That’s not what I meant at all. Just that if you _insist_ on repaying me, your company would be compensation enough.”

A small smile was blooming at the corners of her mouth; he almost sagged into the chair in relief. She didn’t think he was a huge pervert trying to buy her favor. In fact, she almost seemed – amused? What about this woman turned him into a fumbling schoolboy? He glanced over at her again. She was blushing; her scent was dancing around them, confused and flattered and pleased and just a little bit excited. Biting her lip, she nodded shyly. 

Now, Sesshoumaru had to think fast. Where could they go that would not make her nervous, that wouldn’t make her feel pressured? Ah, he knew just the thing to ease her discomfort, to assure her that his intentions were honorable. 

“Tell me, Higurashi-san,” he asked quietly as she fidgeted with her book, “do you like children?” She gaped at him for another moment, bewildered by the seeming non-sequitur.

Reluctantly, she nodded. “Yes; I have a six-year-old son. I’m very fond of children.” Blinking back his surprise – _again_ – Sesshoumaru nodded, adjusting his ideas about where they should go.

“Are you familiar with _Jin’s_?”

She nodded, her eyes lighting up. “That’s one of Shippou’s favorite places; Jinenji’s an old friend of the family.”

He nodded, satisfied. “Perhaps, then, you and your son would be willing to meet me and my daughter there for dinner tomorrow night?” She blinked as she processed the fact that he had a daughter, but immediately her eyes lit up, and she nodded.

“That sounds wonderful.” She was still chewing on the corner of her bottom lip, but the smile that was blossoming around the gesture was breathtaking.

“Six o’clock?” he asked, and she nodded again. His eyes crinkled in a smirk. “Excellent. Now you have no pretense for protesting against this.” He pressed the wad of bills into her palm, and she gaped down at it, blushing. She’d clearly forgotten that component of the ‘deal.’

“But –” she started, stammering slightly.

He shook his head, smirking. “Now, now, Higurashi-san, a deal’s a deal. You’ve accepted my terms; there’s your loan.” His expression softened. “Get home safely; that’s the best reward I could ask for.” The sweetness of her smile made his heart clench in his chest.

The train lurched to a stop. She started, then leaped to her feet, tugging at the strap of her bag and stammering apologies. Sesshoumaru stood and freed her bag in one fluid movement, hanging it delicately on one of her slender shoulders.

“’Til tomorrow,” he murmured, a small smile quirking at his mouth.

“’Til tomorrow,” she agreed, still blushing. She sent him a heart-stopping smile over her shoulder as she darted through the closing doors, then waved at him from the platform as the train slid into motion again.

He found that he spent the rest of his ride home fighting a smile, and enjoying the lingering scent of rain.


	2. Chapter 2

“I’m home!” Kagome called as she kicked her heels off at the door of her family’s shrine. 

“Welcome back, sweetie,” he mother called from inside. Delicious smells were coming from the kitchen; her stomach gurgled in anticipation. 

“Mama, mama, mama!” A blur of rust-red fur rocketed out of the door to the kitchen, hurtling into her arms and knocking her backwards. Laughing from where she’d landed – on her rear on the entryway floor – she gathered the kitsune kit into her arms and cuddled him. 

“Hi, Ship! Have you been good for your grandmama?” she asked as he nuzzled her neck, breathing her scent in deeply. It had taken her a while to get used to his reliance on scent after he’d been left in her care, but she now found it endearing. 

“Uh-huh,” he muttered into her hair, still cuddling up to her as if he could get even closer, his bushy tail thrashing behind him. She ran her fingers through his hair, rubbing gently at his pointed ears and nuzzling the top of his head with her cheek. He always needed reassurance when she’d been away; ever since his parents had died, he hated being left behind. And she hated leaving him. 

“I missed you, mama,” he said quietly. She gave him an affectionate squeeze. 

“I missed you too, sweet boy. But I’m home now, and I don’t have any more interviews for a long time.” He nodded into her shoulder, still not letting her go. She hauled herself to her feet, letting him cling to her neck as she made her way into the kitchen. 

“Hi, mama!” she called, making her way to the stove and kissing her mother on the cheek where she stood stirring something. “Smells amazing in here!” 

“Hi, sweetheart,” he mother returned, smiling. “You’re back early! How was your interview?” 

“I think it was OK,” Kagome said absently, setting Shippou down at the table and ruffling his hair. Turning back to her mother, she dug a spoon out of a drawer and snagged a taste of the broth from the pot. “Mmmmm, my favorite. You make the best oden, mama!” 

Her mother chuckled and swatted her daughter away with a wooden spoon. “Enough of that, now – it’ll be done in just a minute.” Kagome giggled and started pulling bowls out of the cupboard, laying them out on the table. Shippou leaped up to help arrange them, and she kissed him on the forehead in thanks. He grinned and bolted off to the living room as soon as he was done. “How did you get home, sweetie?” 

“I took a cab,” Kagome answered without meeting her mother’s eyes, feeling a hot blush creep across her cheeks as she fetched chopsticks and spoons out of the drawers. She couldn’t remember a day where she’d blushed more. She knew that her mother had noticed, and was silently grateful when she didn’t press the issue. 

“I, uh,” Kagome started, looking for a change of subject, “I assume Souta and Kotoko won’t be here for dinner?” 

“No, Kotoko was tired and just wanted to go home. She’s fine, though; Souta called about half an hour ago to say that she’d been released from the hospital, and that everything was fine.” 

“I’m so glad,” Kagome sighed, relieved. “What was it, a bee sting?” 

“Wasp,” her mother agreed. “She was helping your grandfather in the shed, and knocked down a nest, poor thing. She got a couple nasty stings, but Souta was wonderful – just took charge, and off they went to the hospital, no panic.” Kagome snorted to herself, remembering perfectly well the panic in her brother’s voice on the phone. He may have hidden it well, but he had been frantic. Kotoko meant so much to him; she’d never seen him so serious about a girl. She suppressed a sigh; she hated herself for feeling jealous of her brother, but frankly, she wanted that, too. Someone who loved her, cared for her, worried about her. And who wasn’t her mother. She shook her head. 

“Poor thing,” she murmured. “I’m glad she’s OK.” 

“Me, too,” her mother agreed as she ladled the soup into the waiting bowls, making sure Kagome got a healthy serving of all her favorite ingredients.

“Shippou, dinner time,” Kagome called, poking her head through the door to the living room. Shippou wasn’t there.

“Coming, mama!” came a little voice from the top of the stairs. He bolted down the stairs clutching a piece of paper, looking inordinately pleased with himself.

“What’s this?” she asked in exaggerated surprise as he presented her with his treasure. It was a painting, showing a redheaded child with a fox’s paws and tail next to a tall, dark-haired woman with big blue eyes. In big red letters across the bottom, it said clearly, “My Pack.” Her eyes filled with tears, and she knelt to gather him up in her arms. “This is beautiful, Ship,” she whispered, kissing his forehead. “Did you do this in school?” she asked, pulling back from him and brushing his bangs out of his eyes. He shook his head, lowering his green eyes to the floor. 

“No, no one there knows I’m a kitsune,” he said quietly. “I don’t want anyone to find out about my tail. Or that I have a pack.” 

She drew him back into her arms, her heart heavy. She _hated_ how demons had to hide themselves. “I know it’s hard, baby,” she whispered. “I don’t ever want you to be ashamed of what you are. You’re strong, and clever, and you’re going to grow up to be a powerful demon. And I love you exactly the way you are. I wish it were easier for demons here, but you have to be brave.” He drew back from her embrace and nodded, looking determined. 

“I know, mama,” he confided in her. “That’s why I drew you this when I got home. I want you to know that no matter how human I have to act, you’re my pack.” She gave him a watery smile and kissed his forehead. 

“And you’re mine, sweet boy,” she whispered. “I love you.”

“Come on, you two,” her mother called from the table. “Enough of that. It’s time to eat!” Shippou scampered in, Kagome a few steps behind them, and dinner passed with no further drama. 

As Kagome’s mother was dishing up some ice cream for dessert, Kagome decided it was time to bring up her plans for the following evening. 

“Shippou,” she started as the kitsune shoveled a huge spoonful of ice cream into his mouth, “how would you like to go to Jin’s tomorrow night?” His green eyes went wide, and he sprayed melted ice cream across the table with his enthusiastic assent. Kagome grinned. “I’m going to be meeting someone there, and he’s going to bring his daughter along, too. You’re going to play nicely with her, right?” 

Shippou’s eyes had gone wary; he didn’t really like the idea of sharing her. But Jinenji’s was so much fun – it was part restaurant, but more indoor playground for kids. And Jinenji himself was a gentle giant, a huge lumbering hanyou who loved kids, demon, human and hanyou alike. If he got to go see Jinenji, it would be OK, even if he had to share his momma with some other guy and his playground with some girl he didn’t know. He nodded, agreeing to be good. 

“That’s my boy,” Kagome grinned, swiping at his face with a napkin. He’d already downed his ice cream, and was shifting anxiously in his seat. Kagome couldn’t help but laugh. “OK, Ship, off you go. Be sure to get your homework done; we’re going home to the apartment tonight.”

“OK, mama!” drifted back to her; he was already halfway up the stairs. 

“So,” her mother said conversationally, her back to her daughter as she stood at the sink doing dishes. “You’re meeting someone at Jin’s tomorrow ... with _his_ daughter?” 

“Don’t, mama,” Kagome said wearily, not wanting to get into this again. She knew her mother wanted her to settle down with a nice man, but she’d been thinking over her interaction with the man on the train, and had come to an important decision. Men like him didn’t fall for women like her. He was handsome, intelligent, kind, clearly wealthy – he could have the pick of the litter. He didn’t have to settle for a would-be museum worker with a lot of debt and even more emotional baggage. She knew she wasn’t much to look at, and she certainly wasn’t part of the same social world, either; all in all, not much to recommend her. She sighed. “He’s just a nice guy I kind of made friends with on the train. It’s not a date.” 

“On the train?” Her mother’s expression was suddenly concerned. 

“I know, I know – but I got a really good vibe from him, and in any case we’re meeting at Jinenji’s, of all places. It’ll be fine, mama.” 

“I suppose you’re right, dear. And I know you’re a good judge of people.” She sighed, and Kagome relented a little, standing and going to wrap her arms around her mother from behind. 

“I know, mama,” she said, leaning her cheek against her mother’s back. “It’s in a mother’s nature to worry. But I’ll be fine. This guy is a perfect gentleman, and we’re meeting with both of our kids.” She felt her mother nod as the kettle started to whistle from the stovetop.

Her mother patted her hand and reached for the kettle, and the two disentangled to sit down at the table with a cup of tea. 

“So,” her mother started, blowing across her steaming cup before taking a tentative sip, “am I allowed to ask about this guy you’re meeting?” 

Kagome smiled and leaned back in her chair, wrapping both hands around her cup until the skin was uncomfortably hot. “He’s ... incredibly good-looking,” she started, and her mother raised one eyebrow. “Seriously, he’s got this kind of arrogant air, but he’s among the most attractive people I’ve ever seen, including actors and models. He’s also really smart; we started talking because he made this really well-informed comment about the book I was reading. And then we talked about academic stuff for about forty-five minutes.” She sighed. “He’s also generous and kind. When Souta called and couldn’t meet me, I was a little worried about how I was going to get home – when he pried it out of me that I was planning to walk six and a half miles in those stupid heels with my stupid heavy bag, he insisted on paying for my cab.” 

Her mother’s eyebrows rose into the swoop of her bangs. “Well, I’m grateful that he did, but I have to admit I’m surprised you accepted!” 

“He kind of tricked me into it,” she admitted with a rueful chuckle. “He tried to get me to take the money by appealing to my sense of self-preservation, and I said no. He tried by appealing to my goodwill, saying that he’d be miserable and worried if I didn’t take it, and I said no. Finally, he said that if I insisted on paying him back somehow, I could have dinner with him and his daughter, because he enjoyed our conversation so much it would be like repayment.” She smiled sheepishly. “By the time he’d talked me into agree to having dinner with him, I was so flustered I’d ... um, kind of forgotten about the cab fare.” Her mother shook her head affectionately. 

“Well, sweetie, he certainly sounds charming – are you _sure_ it’s not a date?” 

Kagome was in a tizzy of remembered embarrassment that made her toes curl. She dropped her head, her forehead clunking against the table hard enough to make the cups rattle. “I don’t know,” she wailed, not lifting her head. 

She heard a chuckle, and felt her mother’s hand on her hair. She lifted her head, a halfhearted pout on her lips. 

“Why are men so hard to deal with?” she whined, already knowing what the answer would be. 

“Same reason women are,” her mother answered, as she had every time Kagome asked that question in her life. 

“People are nuts,” they said in unison, breaking into giggles. 

“I hope you have a wonderful time, sweetheart,” her mother said, eyes crinkling warmly. “You deserve a bit of fun.” 

“Thanks, mama,” she whispered, grabbing her mother’s hand and squeezing it affectionately. 

They finished their tea in silence, and before long, Kagome collected Shippou and all his accoutrements, slipped his concealment bracelet back on his arm so that he looked like any other red-haired human boy, thanked her mother again for looking after him while she was away at her interviews, and stepped out into the night. With a grin, she decided to splurge, and spent the last thousand yen of her ‘loan’ on a cab to their apartment. 

That night, she fell asleep wondering about the secrets behind a pair of piercing brown eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day at the office was absolute hell. Everything that could go wrong had gone wrong; Sesshoumaru’s assistant had mixed up two important files, sending confidential emails to the wrong addresses. A client backed out of an important deal at the last moment. Someone had opened an emailed attachment that sent a virus flying through their computer system, wiping hard drives and corrupting data files. The pounding headache that started in his temples left him particularly sensitive to sound, and someone in the break room tripped the fire alarm with a disgusting-smelling bag of burnt popcorn. If he’d had his way, someone would have died at his claws by the end of the day. 

At three, just after some idiot tripped and poured their scalding coffee all over him, he decided to cut his losses and get home. His chauffer was back on duty, so at least he didn’t have to deal with the train – knowing his luck, it would be the day a bum vomited on him. When he slipped into the limo, though, he found that he still couldn’t relax; the traffic was worse than he’d ever seen it, and he kept fretting about how he was going to be late. To his date. 

A date. He hadn’t had a date in years; perhaps not since before he’d adopted Rin? He shrugged uneasily, checking their progress. They hadn’t even made it a block since the last time he checked. He wondered if she’d felt coerced into accepting his offer. Shaking his head decisively, he couldn’t help but wonder what in hell had gotten into him. He _never_ second-guessed himself. That was part of the reason he was such a good businessman. _But not_ , a voice in his head reminded him, _a good socializer_. He’d never been much of a ‘people-person’ (god, he hated that phrase!). He checked his watched again. Was he ... nervous? 

By the time the agonizingly slow ride was over and they’d reached home, it was after five, and he had less than half an hour before he had to leave again. At least the car was fixed and he’d be able to drive himself; that would at least give him the feeling of being in control again. He sighed. 

Throwing on a fresh shirt and trousers and tossing the coffee-stained ones in a pile, he made for his daughter’s room. He found her wearing a frilly pink princess dress and having tea with her stuffed animals. 

“Rin,” he said softly. “We need to go.” 

“I don’t want to,” she said sullenly, not looking up from her toys. Not for the first time that day, he fought the urge to massage his temples.

“Rin,” he repeated, more forcefully. “We are going out to dinner. Change your clothes.” 

“I don’t want to,” she repeated, looking up at him with a mixture of anxiety and mulishness that made him want to hit his head against the wall. 

“Rin,” he started again, but he was cut off by her sudden wailing. 

“I don’t want to go ow-ow-out,” she bawled, kicking her feet against the floor. Balling his hands into fists, Sesshoumaru closed his eyes and counted slowly to ten before approaching his daughter, lifting her gently into his arms, and holding her just tightly enough that she couldn’t kick and punch any more. Her screaming was going straight to his headache, making spots of color dance at the edges of his vision. He held her close and rocked her gently, stroking her hair. 

“Rin,” he whispered into her hair as her tantrum dissolved into a flood of tears. “What’s wrong?” 

She gulped against his neck, hiccupping around her tears. “I want to stay here, just the two of us,” she managed. “I want to wear my princess dress and be a princess with you, daddy.” She burrowed deeper into his shoulder, and he sighed. 

“Rin, I promised a friend that we would have dinner together. I can’t break my promise. We’re going to go to Jin’s, remember? You love the playground there, and my friend will be bringing her son, so you’ll have someone to play with.” Rin was clinging to him like a limpet, now, still crying and shaking her head against his shoulder. 

“Come on, Rin; we need to go.” He prised her arms away from his neck, and met her watery brown eyes as he set her back down on the pink carpet. “Change your clothes.” 

“No!” she shouted, pouting again. “I’m going to wear my princess dress!”

He glanced at his watch; they were going to be late. 

“Fine,” he said, his voice clipped with irritation. “But you will behave yourself, am I clear?” 

Rin looked at the floor like a kicked puppy. She hated it when he was angry with her. Nodding forlornly, she followed him to the waiting car and climbed into the passenger seat, while Sesshoumaru stewed in his frustrations in the driver’s seat, moving as quickly as he could without being reckless.

...

At 6:20, Kagome checked her watch for the fifth time in as many minutes, and decided that she’d probably gotten herself all tied up in knots over nothing. He wasn’t going to show. She was sitting at a booth with Shippou, who was currently coloring happily at her side, asking for advice with colors, narrating the stories he was illustrating, generally being as cheerful and sweet as he could possibly be. Her heart swelled; no matter what, she was the luckiest woman in the world. Who needed a date? 

...

Sesshoumaru stalked in, Rin in tow. She was still pouting; he was still frazzled; they were very late. He glanced around the place; it smelled of good cooking and happy children, which was one of the reasons he agreed to take Rin here so often. But he couldn’t find the scent he was seeking. 

Then, wafting lazily from the back corner, he smelled it: cool, clear rain. 

Rin clung to his hand as they crossed the restaurant, struggling to keep up with his long, tense strides. There she was. His heart stopped at the scene before them; Kagome was sitting at a booth, her face glowing gold in the light of a stained-glass lamp, her arm around a small redhead boy who was gazing up at her with unmasked adoration. They looked almost like a Madonna and child – the very image of serenity and love. 

“Hig—” His voice wasn’t working properly. He cleared his throat, coughing lightly. “Higurashi-san,” he called softly, and she turned, her luminous blue eyes lighting up at the sight of him as she rose and came over to greet him. The smile on her face made everything worth it. 

“Forgive me for keeping you waiting –” he started, but she cut him off, waving away his excuses and assuring him everything was fine. 

“It’s no trouble at all, Taisho-san; really. Shippou, come on and meet Taisho-san.” The little boy had darted over, standing protectively between his mother and the strange male. Just as the boy’s button nose started twitching, Sesshoumaru had a belated realization. _Kitsune_. Full-blooded. 

Shippou’s green eyes were wide, and he back up slowly until he ran into his mother’s legs. She rested a reassuring hand on his hair, looking down at him in confusion. 

“Mama,” he whispered, his voice laced with worry. “He’s inuyoukai.” 

She blinked down at him for a moment, then up at Sesshoumaru, who had frozen in horror. He _knew_ a day like this couldn’t end well. She was going to scream. She was going to faint. This was going to end up all over the newspapers.

“But you can’t be,” she whispered, looking utterly confused. “I can’t sense your aura at all –” Her eyes cleared for a moment, and she added quietly, “You mask it?” 

Now it was his turn to stare, blinking slowly as her words sank in. “You are human,” he confirmed. She nodded. He shook his head. “How would you be able to ...?” 

“Oh!” she gasped, as if suddenly remembering something. Suddenly, he saw a bright pink aura flare up around her, making the air around her crackle with her power. He noted that the kit’s hair was standing on end, but that his scent held no fear. 

“You are a miko,” he said quietly, as though it needed to be confirmed. She nodded, chewing idly at her lip as she reigned her aura back in. 

“Is that a problem?” she asked, looking anxious. “I mean, I don’t have any problem with youkai – clearly,” she giggled, ruffling Shippou’s hair. “But I know it might make you nervous ...” She trailed off, her eyes searching his face nervously. 

“Higurashi-san,” he said suddenly, “forgive my rudeness. This is my daughter, Rin.” He lay his hand on the dark hair of the little girl who was peering out at them from behind his trouser-leg, floofy pink princess skirt swaying as she shifted from foot to foot. She looked up at him nervously, and he gave her an encouraging nod. Kagome had knelt down next to Shippou, and was giving the little girl a wide smile. 

“Hello, Rin,” she said quietly. “That’s a beautiful dress.” 

“Thank you,” the little girl mumbled, hiding her face in Sesshoumaru’s leg again. He shook his head in bemusement. 

“I know you,” Shippou piped up suddenly. All eyes turned to him. “You go to school with me. You’re in the other class in my year. I’ve seen you on the playground.” Rin’s eyes went wide with recognition, and she nodded eagerly. 

“Jineji’s got this really great swing that he just put up last week – wanna go see it?” The kit was practically bouncing with excitement. Rin squealed, shyness forgotten, and they took off together to the indoor playground. 

With the children gone, Kagome and Sesshoumaru were left staring at each other. 

“Would you like to –” Kagome started awkwardly, gesturing to the booth, bringing Sesshoumaru back to the present. 

“Yes, yes of course –” he agreed a little too quickly, and they had a moment of awkward fumbling as they both tried to offer the other the first choice of seat. 

Finally, laughing, Kagome slid into the seat she’d been sitting in before, and leaned back against the cushy booth. 

“OK, so let’s hope most of the big surprises are out in the open now,” she said, grinning. “I’m a miko, and my son’s a full-blooded kitsune. Your turn.” 

He nodded, relieved at the turn the evening had taken. “As your kit pointed out, I’m inuyoukai. Rin is fully human; I adopted her when she was four.” He hesitated, but decided that while they were getting important-but-awkward information out there, he should also tell her the other part of his secret. “I’m also the hereditary demon lord of the western lands, not that it matters much these days.” 

She nodded, still smiling. “I’m also apparently the hereditary guardian of the Shikon no Tama, not that it matters much these days, so I understand about those sorts of things.” 

Just then, their waiter appeared to take their order. Kagome clearly knew him well; Sesshoumaru felt a momentary pang of jealousy as she grinned at him, making him flush. He was an elemental demon, probably thunder by his scent, and uglier than sin. Sesshoumaru took a deep breath, attempting to regain control of his emotions. Kagome had rattled off orders for herself and Shippou; he ordered for himself and Rin tersely, unable to help glaring after the demon as he scuttled off to the kitchen, Kagome’s cheery “Thanks, Manten!” ringing in his ears. 

When the demon was gone, Kagome turned her disconcerting blue eyes back on Sesshoumaru’s face. Frowning gently, she reached across the table and hesitantly touched the back of his hand, drawing back as though uncertain of how he would react to the liberty. Her scent was dark with concern. He met her eyes, confused. 

“Are you OK?” she asked softly. “You seem ... well, tired, I guess. On edge.” 

His eyes narrowed slightly, and he drew himself up. “I am fine.” 

She pursed her lips slightly, as if trying to repress a smile. “Sure. You looked like you were about to take poor Manten’s head off!” 

He sighed, shoulders slumping slightly. She was right. He was in a foul temper, and it wasn’t right to burden her with his company. “I apologize. It has been a ... difficult day.” 

Her hand found his again, and this time she was bolder. Laying her hand over his, she squeezed gently. “Taisho-san,” she said softly. “It’s OK – if you want to call it a night and just get some rest ...”

“No,” he interrupted more forcefully than he’d meant to. She blinked in surprise, then smiled again at his slightly chagrined look. “I mean,” he amended, “I realize that my company tonight is less than fully desirable, so if you wish me to go ...”

“Hey,” she interrupted, laughing, “none of that. I was just going to say that we could do it some other night if you’re too tired to enjoy yourself, but as long as you’re OK, I’m happy to be here with you.” Her smile was so genuine, her scent so cheerful, that some of the tension in Sesshoumaru’s shoulders dissipated, and his headache eased slightly.

“How did you come to have a kitsune kit for a son?” he asked when the silence got too long. 

“Oh! Shippou’s parents were dear friends of mine in college. When they mated and had Ship, they asked me to be his godmother, and I was his nanny/babysitter/playmate from the very beginning. I didn’t realize that they’d actually written me into their will as his caretaker until after they’d died – it was a car accident.” She shook her head, remembering how hard that time had been. “Poor Shippou had such a hard time adjusting to living with a human – someone who didn’t understand the needs of pack, who didn’t have the right instincts. And he’s terrified of losing me too – hates it when I go away for any length of time.” She shot a glance out at the playground, where Shippou was currently showing off upside-down for Rin, under Jinenji’s watchful eyes. She couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her mouth. “But we manage.” 

“You love him.” It wasn’t a question. 

“I do,” she agreed with no hesitation, smiling at him as Manten set their drinks on the table and hurried away. She sipped idly at her soda. “What about Rin?” 

“One of my companies operates a number of humanitarian programs, including several orphanages and child rehabilitation centers. I met Rin on a tour of the facilities. She was very young, and very traumatized. We’re not sure precisely what she went through, but she didn’t speak at all; nor did she for the first year after I adopted her.” He looked into his drink, not sure why he was sharing so much with this almost-stranger, but feeling compelled to nonetheless. “I have never been ... good with children, but something about her called to me.” He glanced up at Kagome, expecting some level of skepticism, but she was still smiling, her eyes shining. 

“You love her,” she said softly, echoing his own words.

“I do,” he agreed solemnly. 

For a long moment they sat in companionable silence, enjoying the happy cries of children playing. 

“Did you—” Sesshoumaru started, just as Kagome opened her mouth to say something. She closed it again without making any noise, nodding to encourage him to continue. “I take it you got home all right last night?” 

Her smile widened. “I did, thank you. That’s actually just what I was going to say – thank you so much again for that. It made the evening much more pleasant, and saved me – and my mother and Shippou – a lot of worry.” She was looking at her hands. “I hope you’ll let me treat you and Rin tonight.”

“No, Higurashi-san,” he said, his voice all business but a small spark of amusement dancing in his eyes. “I regret to inform you that that was not part of our agreement. You should read the fine print more carefully in the future.”

Her jaw dropped in mock-outrage. “Are you telling me I’m dealing with a loan shark?” 

One dark eyebrow quirked upward. “I believe you’ve been informed, Higurashi-san, that I am not a shark; I am a dog.” 

She couldn’t help it; she burst into peals of chiming laughter. Sesshoumaru reveled in the sweetness of the sound as it tinkled off the stained-glass chandeliers; he’d never felt so pleased with himself in his life as when he’d inspired that sound.

Gasping, she wiped away a tear from the corner of one sparkling eye, and shook her head, still grinning. Manten suddenly appeared with their food, and Sesshoumaru caught his eye and inclined his head briefly, apologetically. The youkai’s eyes became impossibly large, and he bowed low. When he shuffled off again, Kagome shot Sesshoumaru a huge smile – just to let him know she hadn’t missed that little exchange – and then went to fetch the children. 

Rin and Shippou were flushed and antsy as they ate, eager to get back to their game. They seemed to get along extremely well, which pleased both parents; they had apparently been playing a pirate game, where Rin was a sea witch and Shippou was a pirate and they were trying hard to foil each other’s nefarious plans. Kagome and Sesshoumaru listened in amusement as the intricate plots unfolded. Before the adults had managed more than a few bites, the children had finished and were begging to be excused to go back to the play area. 

Alone again, Kagome and Sesshoumaru found themselves enjoying the quiet. 

Finally, Kagome sighed contentedly, pushing her plate away. “So, Taisho-san,” she started, “I haven’t actually asked you what it is you do.”

“Indeed.” He was feeling better having eaten, and a little spark of mischief was rising in him despite his fatigue. 

She looked at him expectantly for a moment before catching on, then rolled her eyes. “So tell me, Taisho-san,” she asked with an exaggerated flourish, “what is it that you do for a living?” 

He inclined his head regally, pleased at having won that little match. “I own and manage Taisho Corporation, which in turn owns a number of subsidiary companies in various arenas.” Kagome’s jaw had dropped, and she was staring at him with wide eyes. _Damn_ , he thought. He’d forgotten about that. 

“Taisho Corporation.” Her voice was disbelieving. 

“Yes.” His foul temper was returning.

“You own it.” 

“Yes,” he snapped. “Can we ...?” 

“I’m sorry,” she said, flinching at his tone. He immediately regretted it. With a sigh, he pressed his fingertips hard against his eyes, making explosions of color bloom under his eyelids.

“I should be the one apologizing. I should not have spoken to you that way.” He hoped she could hear the sincerity in his voice; he realized suddenly that he did not want to drive her away. 

“It’s OK; I shouldn’t have reacted like that. It’s not like it changes anything; it just took me by surprise.” She shook her head, and smiled at him again – but her smile wasn’t quite so genuine anymore, and his heart twisted in his chest. He didn’t know what to do or say to get that sunny smile back again; he felt helpless, and he hated it. 

“Why—” she started, but stopped herself, shaking her head again. She gave him another wan smile, and turned her eyes to her mostly-empty glass. 

“Please,” he said softly, desperate to fix whatever he’d broken. “Higurashi-san, whatever you have to ask, please ask it.” 

She bit her lower lip, and worried it idly between her teeth. After a moment, she took a deep breath. “Why did you invite me here?” 

He blinked at her, not expecting that as a question at all. “It seemed an appropriate place for the children ...”

“No, no,” she said, shaking her head. She sighed again. “Not that. I mean, why me? Why did you flirt with me on the train, and arrange to have dinner with me? I’m not – I mean, I’m nothing ... I’m _nobody_ ,” she finished, her eyes pleading and sad.

Without his consent, his hand reached across the table and gripped hers. “I spoke to you on the train because you interested me, and I flirted with you – _later_ – because I found your company enjoyable. I invited you here for the same reason.” She bit her lip again, harder. “You offered me the respect of not approaching me purely because of my looks, even though I had the advantage of a demonic nose and could tell you found me attractive.” Her eyes widened; she looked horrified. He couldn’t help a small, predatory smirk from forming on his lips. “Yes, I noticed. But I offered you the same respect. Did I make any passes at you based on your attraction to me, when I might have seen you as an easy conquest?” She winced slightly, and he kicked himself for his tactless wording; but still, she shook her head. He plunged on. “No. Because your mind is what interested me; I saw you as a potential friend rather than as a decorative object. And Higurashi-san – I must insist on one thing.” His grip on her hand tightened until it was nearly painful; her eyes widened. “ _Never_ say that you are nothing, that you are nobody. I know the ‘somebodies’, and they are nothing compared to you.” 

He noticed, finally, that his grip was probably too tight to be comfortable, and withdrew his hands, apologizing. She was blushing again, and he saw tears forming in the corners of her eyes. He cursed himself again; he had buggered this up badly. Why was being social so difficult? He could intimidate with the best of them, but when it came to dealing with someone as an equal ...

“Thank you,” she whispered, not looking up. 

“For what?” he asked in unfeigned confusion. He’d snapped at her, made her doubt her worth as a person, made her cry – and now she was thanking him? 

“That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” she said softly, finally meeting his desperate gaze. There were still big tears glittering on her lashes, but the gentle smile that was forming on her lips was a true one. Something unclenched in his chest, and he took a ragged breath. 

She let out a little gasp of laughter. “OK,” she choked, “ _now_ do we have the big surprises out on the table?” 

He couldn’t quite manage a smile, but nodded. “Now that I’ve taken my turn, it’s yours; what is it you do?” 

Kagome shrugged uncomfortably, giving him a wry smile. “Nothing much, at the moment,” she admitted. “I finished my PhD in anthropology about year ago, and since then I’ve been applying for various jobs at museums and universities. No luck so far, but I had a good interview yesterday – that’s where I was coming from on the train; they’d put me up in a hotel for a three-day intensive meet-the-whole-organism interview.” She shuddered. “Scary. Anyway, in the meantime, I’ve been supporting myself and Shippou with freelance editing, copywriting, things like that.” 

He nodded, noting that she seemed embarrassed about something; he wondered if there was a way to reassure her. “What was your dissertation about?” he asked, hoping to draw out the fiery intellectual he remembered from the train. 

She grinned at him. “Are you sure you want to ask that? Once you get me going, I might never stop!” 

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he deadpanned, making her giggle. 

“All right, well, wave your arms or something when you need me to shut up.” She took a deep breath and launched into an elaborate outline of a project on the interactions of Western fashion with traditional Japanese fashion and the way that clothing embodied the conflicting value systems during the early years of contact with the West. As she continued, he found himself listening less and less to the content of her project and more and more to the cadence of her words – the musical lilt as she described a literary source, a poem she’d almost overlooked; the passion and fire as she described the ideological clash of feminism with the role of the traditional Japanese woman. Her voice was enchanting.

She fell silent after a while, and he blinked lazily at her as though coming out of a dream. 

“I knew I was going to bore you to tears,” she muttered, blushing. 

“Not at all,” he assured her. “It sounds like a fascinating project.” She let out a rueful chuckle. 

“You’re a very polite audience.” 

Suddenly, something occurred to Sesshoumaru – an excuse, perhaps, to see her again. 

“Higurashi-san,” Sesshoumaru started, suddenly anxious. “I don’t want to sound ...” he fumbled for the right word. She arched an eyebrow at him. He sighed. “I have a large collection of antiques, including textiles dating back to the Muromachi period.” He grimaced slightly, unsure how to word this. “I don’t want to sound like I’m trying to ...”

“Entice me?” she offered, grinning at him. “It’s OK, Taisho-san, I think I can trust that you’re not out to get me. I’d love to have a look at your collection sometime; I’ve never seen textiles older than seventeenth century.” 

He nodded, grateful she hadn’t taken his offer the wrong way. Pulling out his wallet, he withdrew a business card and slid it across the table to her. She smiled and tucked it into her purse, then pulled out a small pad of paper and pen. 

“I do things the old-fashioned way,” she giggled self-consciously, writing her name and number on a piece of paper and offering it to him. He took it gingerly, as though afraid he’d damage it, and slid it into his wallet. His face was expressionless, but when he looked up at her, his eyes were full of such gratitude that her heart caught in her throat. For a moment she wondered what he expected. 

Glancing around, Sesshoumaru noted that the restaurant was mostly empty, and that Rin and Shippou were the only ones left in the play area. Kagome met his eyes and nodded at the unspoken question, and she gathered up the children while he paid Jinenji and made his way back to the playground.

Shippou climbed wearily into Kagome’s arms, nestling against her shoulder as she crooned softly to him. Rin was asleep as soon as her father had lifted her from the floor, snuggled happily into the crook of his arm. Smiling, they called quiet goodnights to Jinenji and Manten and made their way out into the night. 

“Will you let me give you a ride home?” Sesshoumaru asked, slipping Rin into the backseat of the Jaguar sedan. She hesitated, but realized that a sleeping six-year-old was going to make the walk home difficult. Smiling, she thanked him and allowed him to help her settle Shippou into the back seat next to Rin. 

She gave him the address and watched curiously as he typed it into the fancy GPS. As he pulled cautiously out into the street, she realized that she was pretty much alone with a man. A very attractive man. Who’d made his interest in her clear. Although, that said, what kind of interest was it? He couldn’t possibly want a relationship with her ... maybe a fling? A bit of fun? She wasn’t sure whether or not her heart could handle something casual. A sidelong glance at the man beside her, though, and she couldn’t deny that she was attracted to him. 

Sesshoumaru almost groaned out loud as the scent of her arousal filled the car. God, she smelled good. He hadn’t been with a woman in such a long time, and this sweet-smelling human ... she was going to be the death of him. He found himself painfully hard, willing himself to calm down, to control himself. He’d never felt so needy before. 

As they neared her apartment, he found a welcome distraction; assessing her neighborhood. He scowled at the sight of a number of menacing figures slouching through the alleys, and his sharp eyes took in the cracking concrete, the broken-down cars, the broken glass littering the sidewalk. He pulled to a stop where the GPS told him to, and turned to look at Kagome, who was chewing on her lip again, looking embarrassed. He held her gaze, and soon embarrassment turned back into desire. 

For a long moment, they looked at each other, neither sure what the other wanted. Finally, Kagome leaned forward, brushing her lips gently across his cheek. 

Unknown to her, that fleeting caress had brushed over the tips of stripes she didn’t know existed – the most sensitive part of Sesshoumaru’s body – and had lit him on fire. With a groan, he slid his hand into her hair and slanted his lips across hers, hungry caresses making her gasp. He took advantage of her open mouth to slip his tongue between her lips, coaxing hers to join it in a sensuous dance. Her little hands were suddenly on his shoulders, then sliding up into his hair; blunt nails scraped against his scalp, and he groaned into her mouth, one strong arm reaching around her to pull her body closer to his. Awkwardly, half-kneeling on the gearshift, Kagome surrendered herself to the kiss, allowing him to mold her body against his. 

“T-Taisho—” she gasped into his hair as he nipped gently at her ear. 

“Sesshoumaru,” he rumbled, his voice husky with need. He tugged at her earlobe with his lips, then ran his tongue up the outside of her ear, making her shiver violently. “My name is Sesshoumaru.” 

“Sesshoumaru!” she gasped as his lips left burning trails down her neck; she threw her head back in bliss, and felt a low rumble of approval vibrate through him as buried his face in her shoulder, inhaling deeply. 

“Kagome,” he whispered against the skin of her throat, reveling in the way her fingers tensed in his hair and the scent of her arousal spiked at the sound of her name. She was intoxicating. 

Finally, he drew back, panting. Kagome looked up at him, her hair disheveled, her eyes glazed over – he almost hauled her back into his arms right there, she looked so tempting. 

Instead, though, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, closing his eyes to calm himself. When he met her eyes again, he saw a heartbreaking uncertainty. She didn’t know what he wanted from her; if he wanted a single night or something more. 

“Dinner?” he asked softly. “Friday? I can leave Rin with my half-brother; can Shippou stay with your mother again?” He slid one finger down her cheek, watching her eyes close in bliss. He leaned forward again, brushing his lips across hers, a fleeting, tantalizing caress. “I want to see you again.” 

“OK,” she whispered, opening her eyes. Emotions were swirling through them so quickly he couldn’t keep up. “Call me?” He nodded gravely. Flushing, she drew back and abruptly hopped out of the car, gently wrangling Shippou out of the back. He woke as she lifted him, murmured something about a sea witch, then settled back into a deep sleep as she carried him up the steps. 

At the door, she stopped and looked back at Sesshoumaru, who was watching her intently, as if memorizing her movements. She smiled that heart-stopping smile at him, and waved after she’d fitted the key into the lock and opened the front door. He waved back, waiting until the door had shut and he’d heard the lock click into place before starting the engine again and driving away, a foreign hope bubbling up in his heart.


	4. Chapter 4

The next day passed in a blur; Kagome found herself leaping for her phone every time it rang, hands trembling. It felt like everyone she’d ever known felt the need to call her that day; Souta, who wanted to borrow a book from her; her mother, who wanted to know how the date went; a friend from grad school, who wanted to get coffee; her best friend from high school, who’d moved to Osaka and wanted to catch up; an HR representative from the university museum, who wanted to set up an interview. Every time, she found herself biting back her disappointment. 

Finally, after she’d put Shippou to bed, she decided that she needed to get hold of herself. She had no right to be this antsy, and no reason to expect him to call the day after. It was only Wednesday. There was no rush, and he was under no obligation. She sighed, almost wishing she’d offered to call him instead of asking him to call her. But if she called him now, she’d feel pushy and desperate. 

Just after eight, her phone went off again. She resigned herself to another call from Souta; he’d said he’d call her when he was leaving to come collect the book he wanted. 

“Yello,” she called into the phone, not bothering to check the caller ID. 

“Higurashi-san?” Her heart leapt into her throat, and she squeaked an affirmative as she collapsed onto the couch. 

Friday could not come fast enough. 

Sesshoumaru insisted on taking her to an upscale French restaurant in the downtown district; she wanted to protest, but he wouldn’t hear of it. She spent the next day and a half with Kotoko, trying desperately to come up with something to wear that was elegant without being too formal, comfortable without being too casual, attractive without being too provocative ... in other words, the elusive Perfect Date Outfit. Impossible.

Whether or not she found it, she was gratified by the slight widening of her date’s eyes when she answered her door; that look he sent her made her feel like the sexiest woman alive. Heart pounding, she told herself that she was going to enjoy this night to the fullest, no matter what. 

The night flew past; between the delicious food and his calm, intelligent conversation, it felt like they’d barely left the house before the waiter was collecting her empty dessert plate. She was reminded again of why she enjoyed his company so much. Though he was not demonstrative, she found that she had to revise her earlier impression that his face was impassive; the tiny nuances of expression that flitted across his face entranced her. He wasn’t expressionless, just ... subtle. She found herself wanting to learn every twitch and flicker on his face; to be able to read him like he could surely read her. 

All that in mind, then, she fought off a little tinge of disappointment when he left her at the door of her apartment with nothing more than a fleeting kiss and a promise to meet again. Berating herself for wanting more – she’d never been the type to throw herself at a man on the second date before! – she sighed and let herself into her empty apartment. 

She didn’t have as long or as agonizing a wait before his next call, though. They met several times over the course of the next week – once with the children after school, but more often for a cup of tea or a glass of wine on their own; he’d leave work for half an hour in the afternoon to meet her somewhere. Kagome found that every time she saw him, it was harder to leave. She’d never felt this bond, this deep-rooted connection to anyone else before; the sight of his black hair, a good head and shoulders above the crowd, was enough to make her heart leap in her throat; the way his brown eyes would crinkle in pleasure at seeing her was enough to make her melt. 

They’d arranged another ‘proper’ date for the following Friday; Sesshoumaru promised her a surprise. 

She met him at the door of her mother’s shrine where she was leaving Shippou, palms idly smoothing at the skirt of her new dress; she’d been giddy all day thanks to an early-morning phone call, and had indulged in a rare luxury in honor of the occasion. It was red and flirty, and she paired it with strappy stilettos – none of which were usually her style, but it was a special day. His eyes flickered over her appreciatively. 

“You look lovely,” he said softly as he took her arm and guided her down the long stair to the street. 

“Thank you,” she said brightly, blushing. “I’m celebrating!” A quirked eyebrow invited her to continue. “You’re looking at the new research curator for the Edo museum!”

He stopped dead on the stairs, turning to face her. She could feel her excitement bubbling up into her smile; she felt like laughing in delight at the pride and pleasure she saw in his eyes. 

“Kagome,” he whispered. She shivered at the sound of his voice; she couldn’t get over how sexy it was to hear her name on his tongue. “May I kiss you?” 

She did laugh, then, and threw her arms around him. He caught her, swinging her into an exuberant embrace and kissing her soundly. 

“Congratulations,” he whispered into her hair. She smiled into his shoulder, knowing how much more he was saying with that one simple word. 

The surprise he had planned for her, as it turned out, was a night at the kabuki theater, to see _Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy_. Kagome marveled again at her companion’s intuition. She’d never mentioned to him how much she loved kabuki, nor that _Sugawara_ was one of her favorites. When she told him as much, a short “hn” and a crinkling of one eye was her only response. She grinned, shaking her head. 

The show was spectacular; all her favorite parts of the story seamlessly integrated into a heart-wrenching whole. She was scrubbing tears off her cheeks with the palms of her hands as they left the theater, the final pose of the grieving but triumphant parents etched into her mind’s eye. 

Sesshoumaru reached for the passenger-side door of the Jaguar, but paused. 

“Kagome,” he started hesitantly. “Would you – would you like ...” She cocked her head at him like a curious kitten, amused by his uncharacteristic nervousness. “If you’d like, you’re welcome to come back to my house for a cup of coffee.” 

She blinked at him for a moment, then a shy smile stole over her face. “That sounds lovely,” she whispered, looking at her hands and chewing on the inside of her lip to contain her excitement. The relief and pleasure that flitted through his eyes warmed her heart; she kissed his cheek as she slipped past him and into the car. 

The drive was silent, both absorbed in their own thoughts. Kagome noted idly that he lived far out of the city, farther even than she did; he must have a hellish commute. As they continued on their way, the houses got gradually grander; finally, they reached a stretch where palatial mansions peeked out behind the shade trees that littered their immense grounds, all locked up tight behind gated fences. She was starting to feel uncomfortable. 

“Here we are,” he said finally, pulling into the drive. She gaped at the house as he hit a button built into the steering wheel; the gates swung inwards. He parked directly in front of the main door. 

She emerged from the car, breathing the scent of cherry blossoms and staring up at the house in front of her. It was in the traditional Japanese style with some Western influences; perfectly-manicured gardens wound around it on all sides, the calming tinkle of water alerting her to further traditional gardens around the side. But it was _immense_. And everything about it screamed quality, from the carved pillars to the mosaic tiles to the occasional sculpture that peered tastefully from the greenery. 

She turned to meet his eyes, and found him looking at her intently. She smiled weakly, and he took her hand to guide her inside. 

The inside was even more lavish than the out; she gaped openly at the treasures that decorated the hall. Ancient silks, priceless scrolls, stoneware and ironwork older than Tokyo. All tastefully displayed – not in arrogance, but in appreciation. She let out her breath and resolutely closed her mouth. _That’s what you get for dating the richest man in Japan_ , she reminded herself primly. _Don’t embarrass yourself._

She followed him into a side room; it had shoji doors like a traditional Japanese room, but the couch and chairs were of Western design, and faced a large TV. The room was lined with bookshelves, and the coffee table had a few well-worn volumes on it – not books meant to impress, but ones he enjoyed reading. She found herself relaxing again. She _knew_ this man; his wealth didn’t change anything. She turned to face him, and found him watching her intently; a flicker of relief crossed his eyes as she smiled her open smile. They sat together on the couch, suddenly conscious of their proximity, their privacy. She found herself aching to kiss him, but she didn’t want to be the first to move. The silence soon felt heavy. 

“It’s quiet,” she noted with a smile, wondering why it was so easy to talk to him when others were around. When she was alone with him, her brain just stopped working. 

“I dismissed the servants tonight, since Rin is away,” he answered absently, seeming to take her words as a comment on the house’s atmosphere. She blinked at him. _Servants. Right._ He watched her blush, then his eyes fixed on her mouth as she licked her lips. Something hot and powerful flashed through his eyes. She shivered in anticipation. 

“I’ll, uh – put the coffee on,” he started, making as if to stand. She lay a hand on his arm and looked down, blushing. 

“I don’t drink coffee,” she admitted, a hesitant smile playing around her lips as the implications of her words crashed over him. 

With no more hesitation, he lunged for her, one strong hand sliding into her hair, his lips crashing over hers with a desperate hunger that left her breathless. His fingers rubbed sensuously at the base of her skull, and she clutched desperately at his shoulders, her only anchor in the billowing sea of sensation. 

Kagome’s capacity for rational thought was dwindling rapidly, but she knew there was something she needed to remember. 

“Wait,” she gasped into his hair as he leaned her backwards to kiss down her neck. He murmured something softly into her skin, and she moaned as his tongue flicked at her pulse. But this was important; this was important. Wasn’t it? No—yes—important. “Sesshoumaru, stop.” 

He drew back from her abruptly, a concerned frown creasing his brow. She was gasping, trying to regain control of her errant brain; he retreated to the far end of the couch and faced away from her. 

“I apologize,” he said stiffly. “I was under the impression—” 

Kagome took a deep breath and interrupted him, kneeling beside him on the couch and lacing her fingers through his. “Your impression was correct,” she said with a small smile, pressing a single kiss against his jaw. His eyes slid to half-mast at the gesture; did she know that that was a canine apology? She might well, given her kit. He sighed softly. 

“What’s wrong, then?” He finally met her eyes, and found them full of affection and uncertainty. She bit her lip; he found himself idly irritated. It was a beautiful lip, and it didn’t deserve such abuse. He wanted to kiss away the insult, but knew he had to wait until she’d said what she needed to. 

“Do you—” she started, then looked away, hesitating. He cupped her cheek in one palm and drew her eyes back to his. 

“Kagome,” he whispered. “Whatever it is, just ask.” 

She drew a deep breath, steeling herself. “Do you wear a concealment?” 

He blinked at her in shock. He kept forgetting that she was familiar with demon habits; her kit surely had a tail to hide. He hadn’t expected this to come out tonight, though. He nodded slowly, hesitantly. 

She released the breath she’d been holding. “Would you ...” she paused, gathering up her courage. “Would you take it off?” 

He blinked, his mind blank with shock. Was she some kind of fetishist, who got off on sex with monsters? That didn’t seem to fit. Why in the world would she want _that_? 

She bit her lip anxiously, afraid she’d insulted him, and rushed on. “I just mean, I want – if we’re going to – I mean,” she stammered, then closed her eyes to collect herself. “I want this to be with _you_.” 

Sesshoumaru felt like someone had struck him in the stomach; all the air whooshed out of his lungs. No human had ever seen his form without fleeing in terror; and she wished to subject herself to that? She would know him fully, and would lov—would make love to him anyway?

“I do not wish to frighten you.” His voice was low and gravelly, and there was a trace of pleading in it that surprised him. 

“You won’t,” she whispered, cuddling up to his side. “I’m not afraid of you; what you look like doesn’t matter.” 

“It might when you see it.” He did not want to take off that damned bracelet, the bracelet that he had wanted to take off every other moment of every other day since the first time he put it on. 

“It won’t,” she whispered, hauling herself up to straddle his lap, sprinkling ticklish kisses across his forehead and down his nose. She drew back and met his eyes, pleading. “Trust me?” 

There was no way out. He couldn’t refuse her without telling her that he didn’t trust her; without telling her she was too shallow to love a beast. He closed his eyes in defeat, and gently shifted her off his lap, setting her on the couch beside him. 

The metal of the bracelet was warm under his fingertips, as it always was. For half a moment he delayed by running a fingertip over the inscriptions carved into the metal; old, worn with time, but as potent as ever. Sighing, he closed his eyes and sprang the catch, allowing the band to clatter against the glass top of the coffee table. He felt his hair lengthening, his claws and fangs stretching out from their long repression. He felt the claws of his toes tear through his socks and gouge at the leather of his shoes. He opened his eyes and saw that his hands were pale again, magenta stripes peeking out from under the sleeves of his button-down. His mokomoko had materialized, as well, and draped across one shoulder, its weight and warmth reassuring in a way he barely remembered. 

Tentatively, hesitantly – dare he admit it, fearfully – he looked over at the young woman on the couch beside him. Her blue eyes were wide, her mouth slightly open; he searched her face and scent for revulsion or fear, but all he found was shock. 

“Sorry,” she whispered, closing her mouth. “Just ... give me a minute?” He nodded mutely, and she touched his hair where it pooled over his shoulder, then slid her hand down his arm to his own hand, running a fingertip over the deadly claw at the end of his thumb. Her eyes returning to meet his, she smiled tremulously. 

“You’re so beautiful,” she murmured, running her fingers through his hair just under his jaw. “Your hair’s like ... it’s like moonlight. And your eyes ...” she trailed off, eyes wide with awe. 

She raised a trembling hand to his face, and stopped just a breath away from his cheek. 

“May I?” she breathed. He nodded tightly, then closed his now-golden eyes as her gentle fingertips skimmed over the stripes on his cheeks, sending fire through his veins and making him growl low in near-uncontrollable desire. He pressed one hand over hers, trapping it against his cheek. 

“If you continue with that, you’re not going to have a chance to accustom yourself to me before we resume our activities,” he rasped. Her eyes widened. 

“You like that?” she asked shyly, raising her other hand to his other cheek. He groaned aloud as she slid her fingertips up his stripes and into his hair. 

“ _God_ , yes,” he gasped, releasing her trapped hand. Smiling a secret smile, she straddled his lap again, facing him fully and taking in his new appearance. Her gaze was intense, as if memorizing every new feature, every new contour. Gently, slowly, she leaned forward, pressing soft kisses against his stripes. 

He gripped her thighs hard, pulling her flush against him and grinding himself up against her heat, teeth clenched around a growl. She was driving him insane. Those soft kisses; each one seared straight through him, making his cock strain against her. 

“Kagome,” he gasped. She drew back to look at him, eyes cloudy with desire. “I could hurt you,” he whispered, pressing his lips against her hair. “I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice was low, confessional – pleading. 

She took a steadying breath and smiled at him – that sunny smile that made his breath catch in his throat. She raised one finger, and the tip of it began to glow pink. He could feel her power coursing through the room, and shuddered as it clashed with his own aura. It was strangely sensuous, the caress of her power against his own. She ghosted her finger across his cheek, not close enough to burn him, but close enough that he could feel the icy fire of her purity flickering at his skin. It was electrifying. 

“I could hurt you too,” she whispered, pulling her purity back inside herself and trailing her now-harmless finger across his lips. “Are you afraid of me?” 

He shook his head, unable to speak. 

“Good,” she whispered, leaning forward until he could feel her breath on his cheek. “I’m not afraid of you either.” Her little tongue darted out of her mouth, and she licked decisively up one of his stripes. 

With a groan, Sesshoumaru lost any remaining shreds of his self-control. Before Kagome knew what was happening, the world had flipped over and she was on her back on the couch, her body covered by the much larger body of a very aroused daiyoukai. His lips were devouring hers, fangs nipping gently at her lower lip until she opened her mouth to tangle her own tongue with his. 

Her legs wrapped themselves around lean hips, her hands tangled in a silk-soft silver waterfall, as his lips and tongue trailed down her neck to the edge of her dress. Looking up at her with eye hotter than molten gold, he seemed to be making sure that this was OK with her, one last time. 

“Bed,” she gasped. “Now.”

Before she could blink, there was a rush of scenery – entryway, stairs, door, door, door – and she was tossed gently onto the silken coverlet of a huge bed. Sesshoumaru was leaning over her again in an instant, hands caressing her sides, moving up to cup her breasts and tweak her nipples until she arched against him. His lips flicked at her pulse as she wriggled under him, desperate to be closer to him, to ease the ache that had started in the pit of her stomach and spread its fire out through her limbs. 

Every article of clothing suddenly seemed like an unbearable obstacle. Kagome found herself pushing at his chest, and he drew back, looking spooked; she attacked the buttons of his shirt with such desperate intensity that she almost missed the near-comic look of relief on his face. That hurdle passed, she slid her hands under his undershirt and across the broad planes of his chest, grazing her fingertips across his nipples and making him shiver. He shrugged out of his button-down and pulled his t-shirt over his head, obligingly baring his muscled chest to her hungry gaze. Tracing idle patterns across his chest and stomach with her tongue, Kagome reached for the zipper of his trousers. 

With a groan, Sesshoumaru found his hands buried in the jet-black hair of the beauty who knelt before him on the bed. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes with a wicked smirk as she fumbled with the button of trousers and slid her hand into his underwear. He threw his head back, restraining himself from snarling as her soft little hand wrapped around his aching cock and stroked it gently, hesitantly. 

He shoved his pants and boxers down his legs roughly, kicking them into a haphazard pile with his socks and shoes tangled in his pant-legs. His cock now free and bobbing madly, he realized that Kagome was wearing far too many clothes. He reached for the zipper down the back of her dress as she leaned forward. Suddenly, the tip of his cock was engulfed in the fiery heat of her mouth, and his mind ceased working. 

Vaguely, he recognized that she was guiding him forward – and suddenly he was lying on his back, her little hands pressing him to the bed, her body rising up over him, the silken heat of her mouth covering him, teeth scraping, tongue soothing, lips suckling and kissing. He groaned out loud when she leaned forward to lick up the stripes that wrapped around his hips, leaving his cock to nestle into the crook of her shoulder. When her clever tongue returned to trace up his shaft again, he realized that he was going to embarrass himself if he didn’t stop her. 

Cupping her jaw with his hands, he drew her gently up his body, one hand slipping around her to slip the zipper of her dress down her back. He kissed her as though she were the last drink of water in an endless desert – nothing had ever tasted so sweet to him as this woman’s arousal, flavored slightly with his own musky desire. Her rainforest scent permeated the room, sultry and lush and fragrant; he buried his nose into her neck to drink it in, allowed his tongue to trail across her collarbone until she shivered in his arms. 

Rolling her gently onto her back, he dipped his head lower, slipping the straps of her dress over her arms and sliding it down her body, casting it aside. His tongue found the pale blue lace of her bra; he growled approvingly at the enticing sight she made. She arched against him as he circled her nipple through the fabric with a demanding tongue; he took advantage of her movement by reaching under her and flicking the clasp of her bra, so that it sagged open. A moment later her breasts were bared to his hungry gaze, rosy nipples peaking shyly at him from their pale hills. 

Swirling his tongue roughly around one, he reveled in the little gasping cry he wrung from Kagome’s throat. The scent of her arousal was addictive; he found himself craving more, more intense, _more_. He turned his attention to her breast’s neglected twin, making her writhe under him, her hands fisting in the pillows by her head. Leaving her breasts, he trailed his tongue down her stomach, momentarily distracted by four jagged scars that crossed her side. He frowned, hating the thought of whatever had caused such damage to her – on a whim, he ran his tongue deliberately over them, pleased to note that it made her twitch and giggle. Relegating the scars to the back of his mind, he resumed his course south. Finally, finally, he found the source of everything he was craving – hidden by a little scrap of blue lace. He drew a deep breath, groaning appreciatively as her scent exploded through his senses. Too impatient even to slide them down her legs, he slit the sides of her underwear with his claws and cast the useless fabric aside. 

At last, at long last, she was bared to his hungry gaze. Parting her lips gently with his fingers, he leaned his head against her thigh and simply breathed for a moment, savoring the overwhelming smell of desire emanating from her. Then, almost without his permission, his tongue flicked out; Kagome cried out in ecstasy above him, even as the taste of her drove him wild. Burying his face in the juncture of her thighs, he lapped at her, stroking her, swirling his tongue around the spot that made her fist her hands in his hair and rear up on the bed gasping in wordless bliss. Every gasp, every moan, every tremulous cry he wrung from her swollen lips brought him closer to his own ecstasy; never in his life had he known a woman to be so responsive to his attentions, nor to arouse such a response in him. 

When she shuddered and bucked under him, fingers convulsing in his hair, he gave her a moment’s reprieve while he tried to get his own body back under his control. He wanted nothing more than to leap on her and rut her like a youkai bitch, but she was human; he had to be gentle. He had to remember her frailty. 

Moving slowly up her body, he met her clouded eyes as she undulated aimlessly under him, brushing his chest with her tight-budded nipples. He buried his head in her throat as she parted her thighs welcomingly, arching against him to rub her wet heat shamelessly against his arousal. He positioned himself at her entrance, hesitant to press in for fear of hurting her, but she wrapped one long leg around his hip and used the other to lift herself off the bed, pressing herself up onto him. 

When he felt this tip of his throbbing arousal engulfed in her heat, he snarled wordlessly into her shoulder, eyes squeezed shut. Gently, he pushed; he slid deep into her slick heat, earning a shuddering moan from above him. Her fingers were digging into his shoulders, her body taut and waiting under his. He had never felt such pleasure, never in his long life. Never had a woman been so hot, so tight, so eager to please, so eager to be pleased; _never_. 

He drew out from her heat, and had her nearly weeping from the loss when he thrust slowly back into her again. _Gentle, gentle, gentle_ , he chanted in his head. _Human. Gentle. Fragile. Gentle._

“Ah, god, Sesshoumaru, please!” she gasped, raking her fingernails down his back. “Harder, please!” 

Something snapped in him, and he slammed himself deep into her before he could stop himself, and for a moment he paused, horrified at his lack of control, terrified he’d hurt her. Kagome, however, gasped one single word that shattered all his good intentions: “Yes!”

He drew away from her again, and she arched up to meet him as he slammed back into her – her eyes were glazed with pleasure, her breath coming as pants and moans. She liked it. She wanted more. He tilted her hips with one big hand and pounded into her over and over, drinking in her cries of bliss with single-minded determination. Please her. Please us. Please, please, _please_. He was losing himself in the heat of her body, the scent of her pleasure; his rhythm soon exceeded what her mortal body could follow. She clung to him, crying her pleasure to the heavens. He knew that his eyes were crimson, and shut them tight so he wouldn’t frighten her.

She had wrapped both legs tight around his hips and was grinding herself frantically against him as he felt his end approaching. Suddenly he felt her body clench around him; she cried his name – a plea, a prayer, an invocation, her head thrown back in utter abandon, her fingers clutching desperately at his shoulders – and he thrust once more into her welcoming heat, muscles bunching and locking as his world exploded around him. 

He woke to find himself collapsed half on top of her. Worried he was crushing her, he drew back; she murmured a sleepy protest and followed his warmth, nestling against him. He couldn’t help the smile that flitted over his features as he brushed her bangs out of her eyes. She blinked drowsily at him, and he took advantage of her wakefulness to pull back the blankets and usher her between the silk sheets, then turn out the lamp on the bedside table. When he slipped in next to her, he found her shivering in the cool silk; he curled up around her back, offering her his warmth, and a small contented sigh escaped her as he draped his arm over her. He drifted off into oblivion with his nose in her hair, the sweet smell of spring rain enveloping him.


	5. Chapter 5

Kagome woke the next morning to find a pale, striped arm wrapped tight around her, pressing her back against a muscled chest. She couldn’t help the smile that lit her face at the thought of the previous night’s activities. 

Rolling over, she snuggled under Sesshoumaru’s arm and buried her face in his chest. His silver hair was cascading across the bed on all sides; she couldn’t resist the urge to stroke a lock of it where it lay on the silk sheets, marveling again at its softness. 

It wasn’t until she felt a kiss against her forehead that she realized he was awake. She smiled contentedly without opening her eyes. 

“G’morning,” she whispered, kissing the pale skin of his collarbone. He nuzzled her temple, pressing another kiss to the top of her head. 

“Morning,” came the quiet reply. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, still smiling. He was searching her face with his golden eyes; she wondered what he was looking for. 

“What’s it like?” he asked suddenly. She frowned, wondering if she was too sleepy for conversation. 

“What’s what like?” she asked, leaning her head back to look at his whole face. 

“Waking up to ...” he gestured to his face, then down his chest in illustration. “This.” 

“You’re not so different,” she whispered, kissing his shoulder and nestling against him again. “I was worried it would be like kissing a stranger, but it’s not. You’re still so clearly you – the way you move, the way you talk, your expressions, the little gestures you make.” She smiled teasingly up at him. “I could get used to this.” Suddenly realizing what she’d said, she blushed crimson and lowered her eyes. 

A low, rumbling laugh from the chest under her cheek startled her. “I hope you do.” 

Relief bubbled up in her, making her giddy. He wanted to keep seeing her. This wasn’t a one-time thing. She felt like laughing, like running a mile, like throwing a party for the whole block. 

In the absence of the other options, she rolled him over, straddled him, and kissed him until he was moaning under her touch. Their lovemaking in the morning was tender and unhurried, compared to the desperate, burning need of the night before; she rode him until he was shuddering under her, and gasped his name as her body flew into ecstasy. 

Finally, they dragged themselves out of bed and showered – together, of course, which ended in another session of lovemaking, with Kagome pinned to the cool tile of the shower wall – and dressed slowly, Sesshoumaru slipping his human concealment over his wrist again. Kagome was embarrassed to have to put on her dress and heels again – far too fancy for a lazy Saturday morning – but tried to minimize the ‘walk of shame’ aesthetic by pulling her hair back and making sure there were no traces of makeup under her eyes. She ignored her lack of panties as best she could; at least he hadn’t destroyed her bra! 

When they went down to breakfast, Kagome found another foreign source of embarrassment: she was entirely unused to dealing with servants. She smiled and thanked them as she confirmed that she was happy to eat whatever they’d prepared; they offered her coffee, and she blushed, remembering her words of last night. 

“Do you have tea?” she asked hesitantly, not wanting to be demanding or troublesome. 

“Of course, miss. What kind would you like?” answered the housekeeper courteously. 

“Um,” Kagome hesitated, not wanting to sounds low-class – but Sesshoumaru’s reassuring nod gave her courage. “Do you have brown rice tea?” 

The older lady blinked, her polite smile fading. “I’m afraid not, miss; I’m so sorry.” 

“Oh, no, no,” Kagome protested, half-laughing at her own awkwardness. “Not at all. Just plain green tea would be lovely; thank you so much.” 

The older woman disappeared with a bow, noting that Sesshoumaru had given the butler at the door a near-imperceptible nod, and he’d disappeared without a word. 

Halfway through breakfast, Kagome’s empty cup was replaced by a new cup of steaming tea. She smiled, nodding her thanks at the housekeeper, and raised it to her lips, inhaling. Her eyes went wide. 

“But I thought...” she started, turning to look at the older woman in confusion. Her face broke into a sunny smile. “Thank you so much,” she whispered. “I’m sorry to be so much trouble.” She looked back across the table, where Sesshoumaru was looking particularly smug. “You’re spoiling me,” she added, knowing full well that he’d been behind this, somehow. 

His lips quirked in the closest thing to a smile she’d seen on his face. “It is my prerogative, I believe.” She shook her head, laughing, and raised her cup in a mock-toast. 

She took a slow sip of the fragrant tea, closing her eyes at the warm, unpretentious flavor of toasted rice mingled with the herbal sharpness of the green tea. “It tastes like home,” she sighed. When she opened her eyes, Sesshoumaru was looking at her intently. She gave him a small smile. 

“My father died when I was a little girl,” she explained. “I don’t remember him very well; just bits and pieces. But he drank brown rice tea every morning, and every afternoon when he came home from work. Sometimes he’d give me a sip once it had cooled – I didn’t like it much,” she added, laughing. Her expression grew wistful again. “I started drinking it myself when I moved out of the shrine when I was eighteen; the smell brought me straight back to childhood, to feeling safe and looked-after – to my dad. It’s been my comfort ever since.” 

He nodded slowly, face impassive but understanding and sympathy glowing in his eyes. She smiled shyly at him, and they finished their breakfast in silence. 

By the time they’d finished, the pensive mood had dissipated, and Sesshoumaru asked if she wanted to come with him to pick up Rin or if she needed to get home. Biting her lip around her eagerness, she admitted that she’d love to see Rin again. _And to spend just a little more time with you,_ she added silently before mentally chastising herself. It was far too early in their ... what? Fling? Relationship? Whatever it was ... for her to feel so attached to him. When he his eyes crinkled in an almost-smile, though, pleased that she’d come with him, the butterflies in her stomach cheerfully ignored the ruling of her intellect. 

The ride to Sesshoumaru’s half-brother’s house was quiet, with both deep in their own thoughts. She was grateful he’d decided to drive rather than taking the limo; she wasn’t sure she could handle having all his attention on her right now, and at least driving gave him a reason to more or less ignore her. In the light of day, she wondered if she was going crazy, to leap into bed with him as she’d done. She’d never been able to have a real relationship; she was never enough to keep a man interested for long. Was she just setting herself up for heartbreak – again? There was no way he’d be interested in keeping her around for much more than casual sex, surely. And probably not even that would last very long – he could easily find prettier, more experienced bed-partners. She sent a sidelong glance at the man sitting next to her, and decided that no matter what, she wouldn’t regret it. Or she’d do her damndest not to, anyway. 

By her side, Sesshoumaru was anxiously monitoring her emotions as her scent flickered from contented to anxious to self-loathing to mournful to resigned, then finally to determined. Had he inflicted this uncertainty on her? Had he not made his own desires clear, or was she unsure of what _she_ wanted of _him_? 

They pulled up in front of a typical suburban house: small lawn, a few bushy trees, a well-loved red car in the drive. Not a mansion; not a hovel. Just a house. 

“My half-brother,” Sesshoumaru said as they got out of the car, “refused to work at Taisho Corp, insisting that whatever money he made in his life he would make for himself. He refused anything from me or our father. He’s made a decent living for himself as an athletic trainer; he’s coached a number of Olympic hopefuls.” 

Kagome nodded, understanding his desire to stand on his own. Before she could answer, though, the front door flew open and Rin darted out, racing toward Sesshoumaru with her arms out like airplane wings. 

“Daddy, daddy, daddy!” she cried, throwing herself into his arms and squealing with glee as he hoisted her up and tossed her high into the air before catching her and swinging her into his arms. She giggled in delight and kissed his cheek as he nuzzled the top of her head. 

“Hi, Rin-chan,” Kagome greeted over Sesshoumaru’s shoulder, grinning at the little girl. 

“Hi, Higurashi-san,” Rin called out happily, completely unlike the shy little girl from their previous encounters. She reared back in her father’s arms and held out her arms to Kagome for a hug. Startled but thrilled, Kagome pulled the little girl into a tight embrace, kissing her temple as she drew back. 

“Rin-chan, why don’t you call me Kagome? I’d like us to be friends,” she offered, ruffling the little girl’s bangs. Rin grinned and nodded before burying her face in her father’s lapels, clearly having used up her quota of ‘outgoing’ for the morning. 

“Oy, asshole, I told you not to bring your whores around here!” came a rough voice from within the house. Kagome’s heart dropped; Sesshoumaru smelled her sudden panic and horror and stepped instinctively between her and his half-brother, who was emerging from the house. He was a broad-shouldered young man, shorter than Sesshoumaru, wearing a red t-shirt and jeans, his black hair worn long. 

“Don’t say nasty words, Uncle Yasha,” Rin called out primly from the safety of her father’s arms. 

“Who asked you, brat,” the young man groused as he leaned against the doorpost, no real anger or ill-temper in his voice. 

Kagome lay a trembling hand on Sesshoumaru’s arm and stepped out from behind him. The dark-haired young man’s eyes widened, and his nose twitched frantically. 

“Hi, Inuyasha,” she whispered, unable to meet his eyes. 

“K-Kagome?” 

She turned sorrow-filled eyes on Sesshoumaru, who had watched the exchange with narrowed eyes. “Can—can we go?” He nodded mutely, and without another word began to settle Rin into the back seat of the car. 

Kagome had nearly rounded the hood when Inuyasha cornered her. 

“What the fuck, Kagome?” he demanded, grabbing her arm roughly enough to make her yelp. “You _reek_ of Sesshoumaru. Don’t tell me you’re that bastard’s whore, now?” Before she could answer, though, she found his hand removed by force; he was dangling from the fist of a mightily pissed-off Sesshoumaru. 

“Lay a hand on her again, _half-breed_ , and it will cost you your life,” he hissed out through gritted teeth. Inuyasha let out a strangled sound that sounded vaguely like “fuck you” and struggled fruitlessly against the strong hand at his throat. 

Finally, heart hammering in her throat, Kagome lay a hand on Sesshoumaru’s shoulder. His eyes snapped to hers, questioning. 

“It’s OK,” she whispered, her voice tremulous. “I’m OK. Just let him go.” 

Reluctantly, his upper lip twitching in a snarl, he lowered his half-brother until his feet were touching the ground again. Squeezing once more until Inuyasha’s eyes bulged, just to be sure his point was clear, he tossed the younger man to the ground in a heap, and turned concerned eyes on Kagome. 

“Did he hurt you?” he asked softly, running a gentle hand over her arm where Inuyasha had grabbed her. 

She shook her head. “I’m fine. Can we just ... go?” 

He nodded, eyes still dark with worry, and led her around the car to settle her in her seat, shutting the door after her himself. 

“This is not over, Inuyasha,” he growled, his voice low enough that only his brother could have heard it. 

“Damn straight, asshole. You don’t deserve her.” Sesshoumaru blinked, uncertain of how to respond; that was the last thing he’d expected Inuyasha to say, after he’d insulted Kagome as he had. Deciding that a dignified retreat was in order, he shut himself into the car without another word, and left Inuyasha crumpled on his front lawn to regain what he could of his breath and his dignity. 

...

The car ride was tense and silent until Rin finally spoke. 

“Daddy, can we go to the park with Kagome-san?” 

Sesshoumaru looked over at Kagome, who had been staring blindly out the window until starting at the sound of Rin’s voice. She glanced at him, as if asking for permission.

“We’d love to have you along with us,” he assured her quietly. “But if you don’t feel up to it, please don’t feel obligated.”

“I—uh. No, that sounds nice. Thank you, Rin-chan.” She smiled back at the little girl in the back seat before facing forward again. Her smile was so hollow it made Sesshoumaru’s chest ache. 

“Can Shippou-kun come too?” Rin asked, bouncing in her seat, completely oblivious to the adults’ discomfort. 

“Of course,” Sesshoumaru answered, again glancing at Kagome for confirmation. She flashed him another wan smile. 

“Sure, if you don’t mind collecting him from my mom’s.” He nodded, taking the next turn and heading towards the Sunset Shrine. 

“Rin-chan,” Kagome continued once they were on their way again, “have you and Shippou-chan been getting along at school?” 

“Yes!” Rin nodded enthusiastically, twisting in her seat with excitement. “Shippo-kun has been very nice to me – he plays with me during recess, and when Sakura shouted at me and tried to pull my hair, he came over and made her stop, and he gave me one of his lollipops when I fell off the swing and scraped my knee. Shippou-kun is my new best friend!” 

A small smile escaped around the pain in Kagome’s heart. Of course Shippou would race to Rin’s rescue – her little knight in shining armor. “I’m glad to hear that,” she said softly. 

The ride to the shrine passed quickly; Sesshoumaru and Rin waited in the car while Kagome ducked inside, ignoring her mother’s raised eyebrows at her late arrival and her dress and heels. Calling out the day’s plans to Shippou, she quickly slipped into jeans (with new panties!) and a tank top and cardigan – much more appropriate for playing at the park – grabbed a ready-packed bag of games and coloring books for just such a contingency, and kissed her mother on the cheek before darting back out to the waiting car. 

The park was full of families playing tag and couples walking hand-in-hand under the cherry blossoms. Sesshoumaru sat with his back against a tree, one knee raised and his elbow resting on it, while the children chased each other through the grass. Kagome sat cross-legged not far from him, idly pulling blades of grass up and ripping them into tiny pieces before letting the fine green confetti tumble to the ground. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sesshoumaru asked finally, his voice quiet and his eyes still on the children. 

“Yes,” Kagome answered. She sighed, leaning back in the grass, feeling the short blades prick her skin through her clothes. “But not right now.” She looked over at him, seeing the strain and tension lining his handsome face. She closed her eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” came the forceful reply. “His behavior, no matter your past, was inexcusable. I only regret that I was unable to prevent him from upsetting you.” She opened her eyes and found that he was looking at her with an intensity that made her want to squirm. “When you are ready to tell me, I will listen,” he said quietly, before turning his eyes back out to the children. “Until then, I will wait.” 

She surprised him by sitting up and scooting over to him, resting against the tree next to him and leaning her head on his shoulder. 

“Thank you,” she whispered into his shirt. He rubbed his cheek gently across the top of her head, and they relaxed into a companionable silence. 

Before long, their peace was ruined by a pair of wild children who pounced on them, shrieking and giggling. Kagome took off after Shippou, who dodged her attempts to capture him with laughing ease. Rin sat on the grass beside Sesshoumaru and began braiding purple daisies into a crown while chattering happily about nothing in particular. 

Sesshoumaru had three crowns in his hair to Rin’s two when Kagome finally collapsed, gasping, into the grass at his feet, begging Shippou to give her a rest. Sesshoumaru’s eyes creased with mischief, and he leaned down to whisper something into Rin’s ear. Little brown eyes lit up, and she nodded gleefully, giggling. With deliberate formality, Sesshoumaru removed the daisy crowns from his own head and placed them carefully on Kagome’s hair, before charging after Shippou with heart-stopping suddenness. 

Pinned to the grass under the daiyoukai, Shippou stared with wide eyes. The bigger male gave him a wicked grin. 

“You’re going to have to do better than that to keep from being caught by _me_ , kit,” he rumbled. The little boy’s eyes lit with understanding and awe, and he nodded eagerly. Sesshoumaru released him, and in the blink of an eye the two were flashing across the park, a game of strategy and skill gradually emerging as Shippou tried to keep out of the stronger demon’s grasp. He frequently found himself caught and held aloft by his ankle, his sleeve, his collar, before being released for another round; he was in heaven. 

Kagome sat up, grinning, and turned to Rin. “So tell me, princess,” she said, settling her daisy chains more securely over her hair. “How would you like to have a tea party?” 

Kagome and Rin had taken tea with every doll in Rin’s overnight bag, braided each other’s hair, and covered each other with flowers before the children started to get hungry. Sesshoumaru invited Kagome and a winded but exhilarated Shippou back to his house for lunch, and while Kagome started to say that they’d probably outstayed their welcome, Shippou pulled out his strongest puppy-dog eyes, and she found herself agreeing. 

Both children were so worn out by the morning’s excitement that they barely made it through the meal before nodding off. Sesshoumaru indicated a guest bedroom where Kagome could lay Shippo and placed Rin in her own bed before the two of them tiptoed back downstairs. 

Collapsing onto the couch next to Sesshoumaru, Kagome found herself suddenly at a loss. She had so much to tell him – she would have needed to tell him anyway, but ... everything was so complicated now. The morning after their first night together. And he turns out to be _his_ brother. She closed her eyes in undisguised misery, wanting nothing so much as to curl into a ball and hope everything around her would disappear. 

A strong arm wound around her, lifting her gently off the couch, and she soon found herself cradled protectively against a strong chest. For a long moment she just rested against him, listening to the steady, reassuring rhythm of his heart as he stroked her hair. 

Finally, she pulled back to look up into his brown eyes. Biting her lip, she wondered if he would be offended if she asked him to take off his concealment again; she knew it didn’t make that much difference, but she wanted his reactions to the story to be on _his_ face. She trailed her fingers idly over the warm metal of the bracelet. 

Without a word, he removed it, closing his eyes as the transformation rolled over him. 

“Better?” he whispered, now-golden eyes looking calmly down at her. 

“Much,” she agreed with a tentative smile. “Thank you.” 

He threaded clawed fingers through her hair, drawing her head back to rest against his chest. 

She sighed heavily, wishing she didn’t have to relive the whole thing, but knowing that Sesshoumaru deserved to know. Especially if this was going to be a regular thing – and especially since it was with his brother. She sighed again, and closed her eyes. 

“Inuyasha and I met my first year of college,” she started. “I was on the archery team, which took over the big gym right after the aikido class he taught. I was amazed that a junior was teaching the classes; then I was even more amazed when he approached me, wanting to take me out.” She shook her head at the memory. “I was so flattered that someone thought I was pretty enough that he’d just ask me out without knowing anything about me – I was young and stupid. And I think he was just happy to have met someone who knew he was hanyou and didn’t care.” 

“Anyway, we started dating almost immediately, and I thought everything was pretty much perfect. He was kind of ... hypercritical; nothing I did was ever good enough to impress him, but I figured that was just his personality – kind of gruff, right? I _do_ remember that every once in a while I’d get a funny look from one of his friends when they first met me, or Inuyasha would sometimes stare at me with the weirdest expression on his face, but none of that made sense until later.” She shook her head ruefully, distractedly enjoying the gentle scrape of the fabric of his shirt against her cheek. 

“Turns out he’d been head-over-heels for this girl who’d been in his year; they’d been just crazy for each other, planning to get married, the whole deal. Then she transferred to a school in Okinawa, broke it off with him. He was heartbroken – until he met me, he said.” She let out a humorless chuckle. “One of his friends finally took me aside and told me all about her, showed me a picture of her. We could have been twins.”

“I insisted that it didn’t matter, that he wasn’t dating me as some kind of replacement Kikyou. It started to eat at me more and more, though; every time he told me I was stupid, I’d remember that Kikyou had a perfect 4.0 and was in pre-med to become a neurosurgeon. Every time he told me that I was a terrible archer, I’d remember that Kikyou had been president of the archery club before she left. Every time he complained that I was getting fat or that my hair was too wild, I’d remember how slender Kikyou was, how perfectly straight and smooth her hair was in that photo. Every time he told me I was worthless in some way, I’d remember how much worth he saw in Kikyou.” Sesshoumaru’s arms had tightened around her until his grip was nearly painful. She swallowed hard. 

“I couldn’t hold it against him, though; he loved her, you know? You can’t help who you love. So I tried to make room in my heart for Kikyou, knowing that he would never be able to get her out of his. We stayed like that for just over a year.” 

“Then she came back.” She took a convulsive breath, trying to suppress the tears that were just behind her eyes. Sesshoumaru had begun to growl deep in his chest, the soothing sound rumbling through her. 

“She transferred back to a local school the next year. Inuyasha insisted that he didn’t want to break things off; that he was happy with me, that he didn’t need to run straight back to an ex. I thought it was because he loved me. Maybe he did, one way or another. But he was getting more distant every day since she was back in town. I tried so hard to trust him, but it made me sick to my stomach every time he disappeared for the night without a word.” Sesshoumaru’s fingers tensed briefly in her hair, claws scraping gently against her scalp. She closed her eyes, wishing she didn’t have to continue. 

“Finally, I made the decision that if I was going to have this great relationship with the man I loved, I really needed to let go of my petty jealousy and trust him with all my heart. I burst into his room, ready to apologize for my irrational behavior and tell him the good news. I’m sure you can guess what I found.” The reassuring rumble had turned into a snarl. She almost laughed, but the sound caught in her throat and came out more like a sob. 

“He tried to apologize, to explain, but Kikyou – she just stared at me with these emotionless eyes before turning to him and asking him who I was. We’d been dating for over a year and he’d never even mentioned me to her.”

She looked up at Sesshoumaru with watery eyes, and found that his own eyes were crimson, his striped jagged and his fangs jutting down over his lower lip. Distracted from her story by a sudden shock of terror, she lay her palms against his cheeks and gasped his name.

“Sesshoumaru?” There was a tinge of desperation in her voice. 

Sesshoumaru scented her panic and nuzzled her head reassuringly, drawing her close before closing his crimson eyes and taking a few slow breaths. His beast had stirred at her tale, thrashing around in bloodlust, wanting to dismember Inuyasha for his heartless and dishonorable behavior – but he had not wanted to frighten Kagome. She had accepted his youkai looks, but he had to remember that seeing his beast was something else entirely. He felt a moment’s disappointment that she had been afraid, that she hadn’t trusted him, but quashed it ruthlessly; she accepted more of his true self than anyone else in his whole long life ever had. When he opened his eyes again, they were gold. Gently, he urged Kagome to return to her position curled up against his chest, and resumed his calming rumble. 

Her worry not fully assuaged, she allowed him to shepherd her back to his shoulder and sighed again. “That’s when it all went wrong,” she said finally. “He told me I was his, that I belonged to him and he wouldn’t let me leave; I told him I wouldn’t share him. He got really angry, throwing things around, and I tried to leave, to just run away. And that’s when he ... lost control of his beast. It even broke through the concealment, so his claws and fangs were out.” She let out a little gulp of laughter. “I’d never seen him without it before; he said it was a seal for his demon blood as much as a concealment, so he never took it off. He would never have hurt me, I _know_ he wouldn’t have, but ...” She didn’t want to continue. Sesshoumaru’s hand had frozen on her hair; she knew he was horrified. She bit her lip. 

“I woke up in the hospital. Kikyou had called an ambulance, apparently, and used her reiki to keep me from dying. I didn’t even know she was a miko, too – but she was a powerful one, way more powerful than I am. He’d slashed me open with his claws; Kikyou said he was trying to grab me and pin me down, but I was running away, and his claws had caught my side instead. He grabbed me after I’d fallen and apparently tried to ...” her voice faltered. Sesshoumaru was stiller than a marble statue under her. “But Kikyou stopped him. She used her reiki and subdued him, and her voice called him back. 

“Apparently, when he realized what he’d done, he was horrified – he would never have done anything like that if he’d been in his right mind, I know he wouldn’t. Anyway, he moved away from school, just coming in for classes, so that I’d never have to see him again. I couldn’t do archery with my injuries, so there was pretty much no chance we’d run into each other. Last I heard, he had Kikyou make him a subjugation necklace so she could bring him back again if it happened with her. This morning was the first time I’d seen him since the day he attacked me.” She sighed, hazarding a glance up at Sesshoumaru’s face. There were lines of horror and fury cracking his usual mask of indifference, and his eyes were swirling with something that looked like guilt. 

“I’ll kill him,” he rasped, voice hoarse with the effort of not snapping and snarling. 

Kagome let out a little choke of laughter. “Please don’t?” she asked, a small smile on her face as she looked up at him. “I like you better _out_ of jail.” 

“Don’t underestimate me,” he muttered, pleased that her spirit had lifted a little, even if he had been entirely serious. He kissed her temple. “I could do it without leaving a trace.” 

She giggled quietly and burrowed into his shoulder, kissing a spot on his neck just behind his ear and smiling when he shuddered. 

“That’s why my beast frightened you?” he asked softly. She nodded, not meeting his eyes. 

“Kagome,” he whispered, tilting her chin so that he could look her full in the face; she was looking resolutely down. “Please, I _need_ you to understand this.” Her eyes flickered up to his, and the sincerity she saw there captured her. 

“I am not hanyou. I am a daiyoukai; I control my blood, not the other way around. I _cannot_ lose control of my beast; we are the same, at all times, in all places, no matter what color my eyes are. Inuyasha is constantly at war with his beast; his human blood trying not to be overcome by our father’s demonic power. That is the way of hanyou. Full-blooded youkai have no such conflict.” He nuzzled her head. “I swear to you now that I will _never_ hurt you. My beast wants to protect you, just as I do; we will never harm you. You have my word – and his, for the two are the same.” 

She was nibbling uncertainly on her lower lip, but nodded. He lowered his head to capture the poor lip between his own, soothing it with his tongue. She wrapped her arms around his neck and was soon moaning wantonly into his mouth, flicking one of his fangs with her own tongue. He hummed his approval and pulled her close against him. 

He had lain her gently on the couch and was trailing open-mouthed kisses down her jaw when suddenly he leaped away from her and grabbed his concealment, clicking the locking mechanism into place just as she heard Shippou streaking down the stairs, Rin clattering down few paces behind him. Kagome, still flushed and flustered, sat up as quickly as she could and tugged at her shirt, trying to be sure she was presentable before the children burst into the room. 

“Mama?” Shippou asked, stopped dead and looking at her in concern as Rin stumbled into his back. He darted over to her, touching her hand tentatively and looking up at her, his green eyes wide. “Are you OK? Do you feel sick?” 

She blinked at him, not sure where this line of inquiry was going. “I’m fine, Ship; why do you ask?” 

“You’re all red, and you smell funny,” he explained, his little brow furrowed. 

She heard a low snort from the demon sitting by her side, and shot him a brief glare before answering. “I’m fine, Ship. Don’t worry about me.” 

He looked unconvinced, and the daiyoukai decided to intervene. “Your mother is well, kit. That is a natural scent for a human woman, just not a constant one.” He inclined his head at the kit’s wide-eyed skepticism, and let him in on his decision – the decision that not even Kagome quite knew the implications of, not yet. “Shippou, you have my word that I will not allow any harm to come to her.”

Shippou’s jaw dropped for a moment before he recollected himself and nodded decisively. If a powerful daiyoukai wanted to claim his mother as pack, he wasn’t going to object; it would keep her safe like nothing else ever could. 

Kagome smiled as everything seemed to return to normal; Rin was showing Shippou how to work a game console, the two of them thick as thieves. Trying to cool off her overheated skin, to hasten the return to normalcy, she stripped off her cardigan and tossed over the back of the couch. Before she’d even completed the movement, though, she found her elbow gripped by an impossibly strong hand. Turning, she found Sesshoumaru glaring at her upper arm, a flash of red crossing his eyes even through his concealment. 

She blinked at him for a second, then down at her arm. There were five dark bruises marring her pale skin – Inuyasha’s fingers. 

She reached up with her free hand to cup Sesshoumaru’s cheek. His eyes snapped to hers, as though her touch had startled him. 

“It’s OK,” she said quietly. “It’s not a big deal.” 

He shook his head wordlessly, clearly not trusting himself to speak. 

“Sesshoumaru,” she whispered anxiously, unsure how to reassure him, how to calm him. He saw her concern, and his expression gentled; he slid a hand into her hair and pressed a single kiss to her forehead. She figured it was the closest thing she’d get to a promise that he wouldn’t do anything rash, and nestled against his chest with a sigh. She’d never really figured out youkai instincts with Inuyasha because he’d been so hell-bent on denying he had them, but it seemed like it was time to try.


	6. Chapter 6

Kagome started work on the following Monday, and found that her job was everything she’d ever hoped for. She was technically under the supervision of the head curator, but he had been her main advocate during the hiring process, and was deeply impressed by her scholarship; he’d already told her that she’d have pretty much free reign. He was an eccentric old man with bugging eyes and a slightly vague disposition that belied his keen intelligence and sharp powers of observation; she’d also been warned by a few of the other workers that he had a terrible temper, though he never unleashed it without good cause. They called him ‘the fire-breather’ behind his back, which made Kagome giggle – what a name for a sweet old man! 

She settled into her new desk, thrilled with her new responsibilities. Her job was to authenticate and document new acquisitions, and to collaborate with the other curators in setting up displays, building educational programs, and things like that. Mostly, though, she’d be spending her days with the two things she loved best – meaningful objects and research. And, she’d been assured that her hours were flexible; if Shippou were to fall ill or if she were required for other family emergencies, she could make up the time however she chose. 

She wasn’t long in building a happy new routine; her desk was piled with books and scrolls, and she was already wearing tracks in the carpet between there and the museum archives where all the artifacts not on display were stored. They’d just been left a substantial donation, so she had her work cut out for her. 

The week was so frantic that she hadn’t managed to see Sesshoumaru since their emotional Saturday together. She couldn’t just skip into the financial district for a midafternoon cup of tea now that she had a job, and both were so busy with work that arranging other times had been difficult. They’d planned to have dinner once, but he’d had to cancel; something had come up, and he couldn’t leave the office. He’d sounded so sincerely sorry – but she had to admit that by Thursday she was getting anxious. Maybe he was bored with her already? 

Friday morning, just as she was about to serve breakfast, she got a phone call from Shippou’s teacher; a hot water pipe had sprung a leak overnight, the school was flooded, and it was shutting down for repairs. He assured her that so far as he knew it would be open again on Monday, and apologized on behalf of the school for the inconvenience. She made a quick call to her boss, and the day was hers. 

“Well, Ship,” she said as her kit sat grinning at the kitchen table, having clearly heard every word, “looks like it’s just you and me today!” He squealed and leaped across the table at her; she rubbed his hair and held him tight, wondering if she was spending enough time with him now that she had these additional demands on her time – both her new work and Sesshoumaru. 

It was a drizzly day, so rather than head for the park, Kagome pulled out some board games. Shippou loved a good puzzle; the mystery games were by far his favorite, so they spent a few hours playing whodunits and guess-whos. 

It was nearing ten when her phone rang. 

“Kagome?” Sesshoumaru sounded desperate. 

“Sesshoumaru? Is everything OK?” 

“I am—Rin, that is not a toy—forgive me, Kagome, but my housekeeper’s visiting her sister in Narita today, and I ...” He trailed off. 

Kagome smiled to herself, knowing full well what was wrong. She decided to throw him a bone – then suppressed a giggle at the unintentional image. He was, after all, a dog. 

“You know, what, Sesshoumaru,” she said cheerily, “I’ve taken the day off work because Shippou’s home with me. Would you like me to look after Rin, too?”

The silence on the other end of the line was deafening. “Yes,” he said finally in a small, defeated voice. “Please.” 

She couldn’t suppress the giggle this time. “Just hang on, Sesshoumaru. I’ll be there in half an hour.” 

After the decisive click of her hanging up, she turned mischievous eyes to her kit. “Well, sweet boy,” she started, “what do you say we go rescue Sesshoumaru and Rin from each other?” He leaped to his feet, scampering around the apartment to pick up his concealment bracelet, his shoes, the new hand-held game he wanted to show Rin. 

The buses were mercifully prompt, and she arrived at Taisho Corp right on time. The marble entryway was daunting; she felt extremely out place with her jeans and disheveled hair, holding her child’s hand. This was a world of suits and black leather briefcases; this was not her world. Still, she ignored the feeling as best she could, marching to the security desk with her head high. Sesshoumaru had called down to give her maximum clearance; she was awarded a visitor pass with no fuss, and she made her way to the elevator and hit the button for the top floor. 

The elevator let out a musical ding, and they made their way into what felt like a different world. The topmost level of Taisho Corp was lushly decorated; a row of meticulously-kept bonsais lined the hall in their masterfully-executed pots, a small bamboo fountain clanked soothingly against a rock as it tipped the water that filled it into a shallow pool. Kagome, however, was more entertained by the muted sound of Rin’s chatter coming from somewhere within the place – she turned a corner, and found herself in the main office. 

A black-haired young woman in a slightly scandalous top looked up as she entered, taking in Kagome’s appearance with undisguised surprise. Her desk was just next to a pair of imposing, carved-wood doors, no doubt to Sesshoumaru’s office; she looked like some kind of gatekeeper. Kagome flashed her a winning smile, pretending more confidence than she really felt. 

“Hello, I’m Higurashi Kagome. May I speak with Taisho-san?” 

The woman’s manicured eyebrow shot up. “I’m afraid Taisho-san is extremely busy today. I’ll have to check his calendar—”

“Please,” Kagome interrupted quietly. “Just tell him I’m here.” 

The young woman looked at her skeptically, but lifted the phone. “Yes, sir; there’s a woman here named Higurashi—”

She hadn’t even finished her sentence before the doors to his office flew open and Sesshoumaru was there. He had reached out to cup her cheek before realizing what he was doing; pulling himself back abruptly, he swallowed and met her eyes with a burning intensity that left her breathless. She smiled hesitantly at him when Rin rocketed out from the office. 

“Kagome-san!” she cried, attaching herself to Kagome’s waist. 

“Hi, princess!” she answered, returning the girl’s hug and ruffling her hair. “I hear you got the day off school, huh?” 

“Uh-huh,” Rin agreed, seeing Shippou for the first time. “And Shippou-kun’s here too!”

“That’s right,” Kagome said with a smile. “How would you like to spend the day with me and Shippou-chan instead of being stuck in the office all day?” 

Rin’s eyes got huge, and she turned a pleading look on her father. He nodded gravely, and she squealed in delight and gave Shippou a hug that made him flush. To cover his embarrassment, the kit drew out the little game he’d been playing earlier and asked her if she wanted to learn how to use it. As they chattered happily together, Kagome met Sesshoumaru’s eyes uncertainly. He reached out for her again, and this time didn’t stop himself from sliding his knuckles down her cheek. She closed her eyes. 

“I’ve missed you,” she admitted softly, almost not wanting to say it – especially not in public – but it was so, so true. She had missed him so much. 

Without another word he pulled her against him, burying his nose in her hair. “I’ve missed you too,” he murmured, his voice so soft he barely heard it. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to see you this week.” 

“’S OK,” she mumbled into his shoulder. “I know how things go.” 

He held her for a moment longer before sighing and pulling back, glancing at his watch. “I’m sorry to do this—” he started, but Kagome cut him off. 

“Don’t worry about it, Sesshoumaru. I’m here to make it so that you can actually get your work done, not to distract you. Since it’s rainy, I’ll take Rin back to my place, OK?” 

He nodded, turning his attention briefly to his secretary, who was staring at the pair of them with wide eyes. “Yura, you will collect Kagome’s contact information in case anything comes up.” He turned back to Kagome, and his eyes softened. “I’ll see you this evening. No excuses.” 

“You better see me this evening; I’ve got your kid!” she laughed, making a corner of his lip quirk up. 

“If you require anything, you will call.” It was not a question. She grinned up at him, and patted his cheek impertinently. 

“I think I can manage. But you’re on my speed-dial just in case.” He nodded. “Have a good day,” she added quietly, and he nodded again, his eyes burning into her. 

The jangling of the phone startled them both. 

“Sir,” the young woman at the desk said, one hand on the receiver as she eyed the called ID, “It’s your 10:30.”

“Thank you, Yura; I’ll take it in my office.” Yura blinked at him, shocked, before nodding hastily and answering the phone. 

He turned back to Kagome and kissed her hard before turning and striding back into his office without another word, the heavy doors falling into place behind him. Kagome stared dumbly after him, one hand to her lips, as Yura transferred the call. 

“So, Higurashi-san,” Yura said, a smirk curling her delicately-painted lips. “I suppose I should get your number from you.” 

Kagome blushed furiously at what the young woman had just witnessed, and fumbled in her bag for a pen. Yura’s chiming laughter interrupted her. 

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, Higurashi-san,” she started, eyes sparkling. “I’m thrilled that you’re seeing Taisho-san. I’ve been wondering why he was in such a good mood last week, and in such a foul one this week – it makes a lot more sense now.” With a wink, she added in a low voice, “If you were wondering, he’s been in the office until after ten every night this week, no joke. The place is key-card access only after seven, and I see the access records every morning.” 

Kagome blinked at the woman’s sudden friendliness, grateful she wasn’t being judged. Then her words sank in. 

“Wait, he’s been staying here until ten? It’s over an hour’s drive to his house from here!” 

“I know,” Yura agreed, shaking her head. “He’s mentioned that. And he’s in before eight every morning.” 

“Daddy gets busy sometimes,” Rin chimed in, suddenly interested in the conversation. She made her way over the Kagome, and placed her little hand in the older woman’s. “Sometimes he can’t see me as often as he wants to, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t love me.” 

Kagome found that her eyes were suddenly full of tears; she knew that Rin wasn’t talking just about herself, but was trying to reassure her, as well. She knelt next to Rin, and pulled the little girl into a hug. “You’re right, sweetheart, it doesn’t. Your father loves you very much.” Seeing Shippou hanging back uncertainly, she opened her other arm to him, and he was soon nestled against her neck. She held them both tight, heart overflowing. 

When she stood, Yura was tapping at the computer’s keyboard again. She met Kagome’s eyes with a twinkle. 

“I’ve cleared his evening schedule; poor man deserves a break. He’ll be done at five, like a sane person. Just please don’t tell him I did it!” 

“My lips are sealed,” Kagome laughed, scribbling her phone number on a scrap of paper and passing it to the secretary. “Give me a shout if he needs anything.” 

“Will do,” Yura agreed. For a moment, she hesitated, then met Kagome’s eyes. “While we’re talking about it ...” 

Kagome raised her eyebrows. 

“Well, the thing is – today I’ve managed to schedule him a lunch meeting, but most days he just doesn’t eat; schedules himself straight through, and won’t eat anything I bring him. I know it’s not my place, but ...” She trailed off, looking hopefully at Kagome. 

Kagome grinned. That was something she could do – and it might give her an excuse to pop in and see him during the workday. “I’ll see what I can do.” 

Yura smiled, relieved. “Thanks. And thanks for what you’ve done for him already – he’s never thanked me before, and I’ve been working here for four years!” 

Laughing as she waved goodbye, Kagome wondered about that. Was he really so different with other people? Did they see the impassive, intimidating businessman and nothing else? What a shame! 

Taking the children by the hand, she navigated the buses and the sporadic rain, grateful when they finally reached her apartment. Rin was excited to have a new space to explore; she was unused to the smallness of their apartment, but every little discovery thrilled her. She was never allowed in the kitchen at home; Kagome’s little galley kitchen was a treasure-trove to her. 

It was time for lunch by the time the three had settled in. Kagome decided that a picnic on the living room floor was the way to go, and had Shippou and Rin spread out a blanket on the floor and lay out paper plates while she made sandwiches and tea. Rin was in heaven; she’d never thought that a picnic might not have to be outdoors!

The afternoon passed in a blur of board games and coloring. When the children started getting antsy, Kagome suggested a game of hide-and-seek, and Rin agreed with deafening enthusiasm. 

Shippou grinned at the two girls and announced chivalrously, “I’ll even promise to plug my nose!”

Rin cocked her head at him, confused. “Why?” 

Kagome and Shippou exchanged dismayed glances; he hadn’t meant to let that out. Kagome gave Shippou a meaningful look: _do you want to tell her?_ Shippou swallowed hard, grimacing, and nodded. Rin watched the whole exchange with uncomprehending eyes. 

“Rin-chan,” Kagome started delicately, sitting crosslegged on the floor next to her. “Do you know what youkai are?” 

The little girl nodded tentatively, her forehead creasing. “The people on the TV say that youkai are monsters,” she said quietly. 

“Do you believe that?” Kagome asked, putting her arm around Shippou as he leaned against her for comfort. 

Rin shook her head adamantly, looking up at Kagome with a defiant glint in her eyes. “Daddy’s youkai.” And there was the answer.

“That’s right, sweet girl,” Kagome said, sighing in relief. She gave Shippou a reassuring squeeze. “Ship, is there something you want to tell Rin?” 

Instead of answering, Shippou shuffled forward until he was standing between Kagome and Rin, his eyes firmly fixed on his feet. Slowly, shyly, he reached for the bracelet around his left wrist and unclasped it, slipping it into his pocket. 

Rin gasped as his features shifted, his green eyes becoming more vivid, his ears tapering to long points, his bare feet shifting into fox paws, a bushy tail emerging behind him. 

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, waiting for her to say something. 

“Shippou-kun,” she breathed finally, her eyes impossibly wide. “You have a tail!” 

She began grinning madly, and circled him, trying to get a good look, loosing a steady stream of chatter about how adorable he was and did it hurt to hide it and what did it feel like and was that why his nose was so good and any number of other things. Shippou looked like he was about to cry with relief; she wasn’t scared. He hadn’t lost his friend. 

“Rin-chan,” Kagome finally interrupted. Rin stopped her stream of questions and paused, her little hand resting on the paw she’d been examining. “Do you understand why your daddy needs to keep it secret that he’s a youkai?” 

Rin nodded solemnly. “People outside don’t like youkai,” she whispered sadly. “Daddy says he hopes no one ever finds out he is one. But you found out, and you don’t mind, right?” She frowned up at Kagome, who smiled gently. 

“I don’t care whether a person is human, youkai, or hanyou, sweetheart – I love Shippou and your daddy just as they are.” She blinked for a moment at what had slipped out of her mouth, but couldn’t retract it. Barreling on and hoping the children wouldn’t make an issue of it, she continued, “But Rin-chan, your daddy relies on you to keep his secret, right?” Rin nodded eagerly. “And now Shippou-chan is going to rely on you, too. Can you keep his secret safe?” 

Rin’s eyes widened in understanding, and she stood, looking at Shippou seriously. “Shippou-kun,” she said slowly and clearly. “I promise I won’t ever tell anybody your secret.” She held out her right hand, pinkie finger extended. “Pinkie swear.” 

Shippou joined pinkies with her, and they shook. And that was the end of that. 

The three played their way through the afternoon and evening, and when Kagome suggested that they cook dinner for Sesshoumaru, they agreed with tumultuous cheerfulness. Kagome flipped on the radio as she began assembling a simple meal of pasta and salad, getting the children to help wash the vegetables and set the table. 

A song came on that had her tapping her toe. When Shippou noticed and started to giggle, pointing it out to Rin, Kagome decided to up the ante. Grabbing a wooden spoon and holding it like a microphone, she began dancing through the kitchen, singing at the top of her lungs. The children were rolling with laughter, and Kagome tossed the spoon aside to grab each one by the hand and pull them into the dance with her. 

Shippou’s nose started twitching about halfway through the song, and he ducked out of the kitchen. Out in the hall of their little apartment, he made his way to the door; yes, his nose hadn’t failed him. Without waiting for the visitor to knock, he opened the door. 

Sesshoumaru nodded to the kit – he’d smelled him coming, and knew that the boy had done the same for him. His eyes widened at the sight of the boy’s paws and tail; no concealment. Which meant he’d told Rin that he was youkai. From the sound of Rin’s delighted laughter over the blaring music in the kitchen, he gathered it had gone well. His expression clearing, he lay a hand on the boy’s head, his eyes crinkling in approval. Shippou grinned, and stepped aside to let him enter. 

Sesshoumaru made his way to the kitchen, stopping in bemusement at the sight that greeted him. Kagome had Rin by both her hands, and was dancing with wild abandon. 

“You my—brown-eyed girl,” she laughed, twisting her hips, with Rin mimicking her every move. “Do you remember when we used to sing, sha la la la la la la la la la la ti dah – just like that!” Suddenly she squealed as a pair of strong hands separated her from her dance partner, and she was swung around to face the door. 

“Sesshoum—” she gasped as he cut her off with a kiss, eyes sparkling with mischief. He pulled her into his arms and twirled her in delirious circles, leading her in an exuberant dance and ending the song by dipping her nearly to the floor, her arms tight around his neck. 

“Where did you learn how to dance like that?” she gasped as he pulled her upright, and he smirked. 

“A man needs his secrets,” he murmured into her hair as he held her just a moment longer than was really necessary. He drew a deep breath. “Dinner smells wonderful. I take it Yura was the one responsible for the near-miraculous clearing of my schedule?” 

Kagome laughed. “Not telling,” she giggled, drawing away to set a colander in the sink and drain the pasta. Rin had attached herself to her father’s leg; he knelt, pulling her into a tight hug. Kagome remembered that they hadn’t seen much of each other this week, either; her heart ached for the cheery little girl, not that the time she spent with the housekeeper seemed to have done her any harm. 

At the thought of the servants and the gourmet meals Rin and Sesshoumaru were used to, Kagome looked around her little kitchen and sighed, shaking her head. Sesshoumaru had stood, Rin nestled in the crook of one arm, and was looking at her with his brow creased in confusion. “It’s not much, and it’s not fancy, but—”

He cut her off with a finger on her lips. “It’s perfect.” He leaned forward to kiss her forehead. Shippou was suddenly there, holding his mother’s leg possessively; she smiled down at him, pulling him close and rubbing his back soothingly. Sesshoumaru lay a heavy hand on the kit’s head, and Kagome leaned her head against his shoulder. For just a moment, they felt like a family.


	7. Chapter 7

The four of them spent all of Saturday together, reconnecting with each other. Rin and Shippou had grown even closer since their shared secret; Shippou was pleased and grateful that Rin had accepted him, where Rin was thrilled to have someone else rely on her. 

After a day of lazy chatter and games, the adults sat under the shade of their tree in the park, enjoying the warm spring evening and the scent of cherry blossoms. The children were chasing each other through the tall grass, their laughter a musical counterpoint to the wind in the branches above them. Sesshoumaru sent a sidelong glance at Kagome. Something was bothering her. 

“Sesshoumaru,” she said finally. “Are Inuyasha and Kikyou still together?” 

He blinked, not knowing how to take the question. His beast growled at the thought of a rival for her affection, but he quashed his jealousy and kept his features neutral. “I believe so,” he answered with a shrug. She raised her eyebrow, her face set in an expression of utter disbelief. He could almost hear her thoughts: _You don’t know?!_ He sighed. “Inuyasha and I have never been ... close. We do not communicate unless it is necessary; I hadn’t spoken to him in years before I adopted Rin.” He shrugged uneasily. “He is brash and reckless, but he is the only one I trust – trusted – to protect her.” 

She nodded, her eyes distant. “I hope that hasn’t changed because of me,” she said, her voice quiet. 

“I have always known that there was a possibility that he would lose control of his blood,” Sesshoumaru admitted, glaring at the a dragonfly that had alighted on his knee. “However, knowing that he has already done so, that he has injured something that is dear to me – it is ... unsettling.”

Something that was almost a smile flickered across her face at the word ‘dear.’ “If Kikyou has subjugation beads on him, it shouldn’t be a problem.” The warm golden light was slanting across her face, painting it unearthly shadows; she was heartstoppingly beautiful.

“Hn,” he grunted noncommittally, turning his eyes back out to the children.

After a long moment of silence, she let out a little choke of laughter. He turned to her, one eyebrow raised. 

“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head – he couldn’t tell whether she was closer to laughter or tears. “It’s nothing.” She took a deep breath before letting out another little chuckle. “Just – who would have thought that _you_ were the ice-cold asshole brother?” 

Sesshoumaru snorted. “At least he’s consistent,” he muttered. “He doesn’t call me anything behind my back that he doesn’t also say to my face.”

“Yes he does,” Kagome said absently, plucking a daisy and twirling the stem between her fingers. She glanced over at him, smiling shyly. “Does he call you ‘impossibly powerful,’ ‘absolutely unbeatable,’ and ‘honorable to a fault’ to your face?” 

Sesshoumaru blinked, hoping he was concealing his shock. No, no he certainly didn’t. Kagome clearly saw a different side of Inuyasha than he ever did. She seemed to bring out the best in people ... himself included. He _did_ have a reputation as an ice-cold asshole, and it was one he’d earned; he was a ruthless businessman, and little else. Until Rin. And then Kagome. Kagome, who had loved his brother ... 

He looked out over the playing children, wondering for just a moment precisely whose eyes Kagome was looking into when she looked into his face. Did she see him as a shadow of Inuyasha, even after all his brother had done to hurt her? The idea unsettled him more than he cared to admit. 

...

Monday came too soon, and they parted regretfully, knowing that it was going to be another tough week for both of them. 

At work, Kagome soon found herself hiding in her office behind a pile of scrolls rather than risking interactions with the public in the museum. Thanks to the anti-youkai propaganda on the news, people seemed to think that civilization was on the brink of collapse; every time she left the safety of her desk, some visitor would demand to know that human society was safely documented here, and that they hadn’t tainted their collection with youkai artifacts. It was all she could do not to slap them. 

Everywhere she looked, there were signs that anti-youkai groups were stepping up their activities in Tokyo; it made her anxious. There was a time – long ago, now, she realized – that the worst that would happen if someone found out you were a youkai is that you’d be ostracized; you’d run the risk of extremists taking note of you, and you couldn’t count on the help of the law in case anything happened to you, but your chances of living a decent life were still ... fair. Now, things were getting worse every day; there were rumors that groups of priests were trying to completely separate humans and youkai, finding and breaking up mixed families by force, creating prison-camps for captured youkai. She tried hard to just turn her mind to the newest acquisition list. 

On Thursday afternoon, her phone went off, making her jump at her desk. It was number she didn’t recognize. 

Frowning, she answered. 

“Hello?”

“Is this Higurashi Kagome?” It was a woman’s voice, polite but earnest. She sounded anxious, as if she were trying to sneak the call in while under surveillance. 

“Yes; how can I help you?” 

“Thank goodness. This is Yura, Taisho-san’s secretary. Do you think you could—Higurashi-san, Taisho-san is in a temper like I’ve never seen before.” The woman hesitated, as if unwilling to give details. 

“I’ll be right there,” Kagome decided. If Sesshoumaru needed her, she’d be there. And his secretary wouldn’t call her unless something important was going down. 

“Thank you so much,” the woman sighed, her voice breathy with relief. “Thank you.” 

“See you shortly, Yura – just try to keep him from firing anybody else before I get there.” 

“I’ll do my best. Thank you so much.” They said their farewells, and Kagome was left staring at her phone in bemusement. 

It didn’t take her long to get out of work; she hadn’t taken a lunch break, even though it was nearing three, and her boss was impressed with what she’d managed to accomplish already. In any case, she was sure she could be back in an hour.

She raced for the bus, managing to get the driver’s attention as he was pulling away from the curb. She stood anxiously, swaying in the crowd of commuters, counting the seconds as they neared the financial district where Sesshoumaru’s office was. She leaped off the bus a block before she normally would, ducking into Sesshoumaru’s favorite cafe to pick up a few of his weaknesses – a perfectly-made latte, a savory scone with thyme and aged cheddar, a bag of house-made dark-chocolate-covered espresso beans. Who knows when the last time he ate was? 

Crossing the marble floor of the entryway with quick, decisive steps and nodding hello as the security guard waved her through, she darted between the closing doors of the elevator. It couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes since Yura had called. 

The ride to his penthouse office seemed to take forever. She was tapping her foot anxiously, measuring every degree of heat that the latte lost; she realized suddenly that she was really worried about him. What had happened to put him into such a bad mood that his secretary would call her? Was it that big deal he’d been so anxious about? Had someone backed out on him? She wondered if he was suffering from one of those awful headaches he got, or if something deeper was wrong; had he gotten bad news? 

Finally, finally, the elevator announced her floor with a decisive _ding_. She slipped out, ignoring the looks of surprise from the workers waiting to get in the elevator. 

She noticed at once that the whole floor was quiet, anxious; everyone spoke in hushed whispers, as if afraid of setting off an avalanche. Sesshoumaru’s unmasked aura was lashing around the place like a cat’s tail, irritable and threatening. Taking a deep breath, she made for the main office. 

Yura looked up at her with undisguised relief. “Can I help you?” she asked, just a little louder than necessary, gesturing with her head to Sesshoumaru’s closed door. 

Kagome winked at her. “I’m here to see Taisho-san. Does he have any availability in the next little while?” 

Yura clicked a couple times with her mouse, grinning at Kagome. “I’m sorry, miss, but he’s booked solid until seven this evening; can you come back tomorrow?” 

Sesshoumaru’s door slammed open, making both women jump, and he stormed out into his assistant’s office. 

“What are you doing here?” he snarled, movements jerky with suppressed irritation. 

Kagome ignored his foul temper, bracing one hand on his shoulder as she rose up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I missed you,” she whispered into his jaw, nuzzling it gently with her nose. One of his hands had rested automatically on her hip to stabilize her; the fingers dug into her skin at her words. She smiled and leaned her head briefly against his shoulder before pulling back. 

“I brought you something to eat,” she added, this time loud enough that Yura could hear. “And a coffee, since I figured it was about time for an afternoon pick-me-up.” 

He glanced at the clock on the wall over Yura’s desk. “I have fifteen minutes before my next appointment.” Without another word, he turned and stalked into his office, clearly expecting Kagome to follow. She grinned broadly at Yura, who sent her a big thumbs-up, and followed. 

His office was a wreck; she wondered if he’d been tearing things apart looking for something, or if he just hadn’t had a minute to put anything away. He sank wearily into his chair, and Kagome set his food on his desk and allowed him to pull her into his lap. For a long moment, they sat together in silence; she stroked his hair, rubbing soothing circles against his scalp with her fingertips, and he buried his face in her neck, breathing deep pulls of her scent. 

Finally, Kagome extricated herself from his embrace and stood. He looked up at her with an expression unlike any Kagome had ever seen on his face before – longing, wistful. Vulnerable. She smiled sweetly at him and moved behind his chair, leaning forward to plant gentle kisses across his cheek and up to his temple as she helped him out of his jacket and lay her hands on his shoulders. 

When she began digging into the muscles of her back, Sesshoumaru let out a long, quavering moan. Kagome almost laughed at how obscene it must have sounded; Yura stuck her head unobtrusively through the open door, eyes wide, before seeing what a going on and shutting the door behind her with a grin. With all the brutal efficiency Kagome could muster, she ground insistently at the knots in his rock-hard muscles, using her elbows when she couldn’t get enough purchase with her palms. She loosed her aura, and it twined around them, reassuring and warm, giving her movements more strength and swirling calming patterns around his own erratic youki. 

As she dug into the muscles between his shoulder-blades with her thumbs, her eyes strayed across the clutter-strewn desk. A newspaper was on top on the right-hand corner, crumpled at the bottom as though he’d crushed it while reading. The headline made her wince: “YOUKAI: THEIR WAR ON HUMANITY.” From what she could tell, the article was documented the efforts of a particularly powerful anti-youkai group to locate mixed families and segregate them, locking any discovered youkai into private ghettos. It was true; the rumors were true. It was happening. She shuddered, returning her attention to Sesshoumaru. She forced herself to focus on the feeling of his body under his hands, allowing herself to be soothed just as she tried to soothe him. 

His breathing was growing more even, and she could tell that he was relaxing. Finally, she slid her hands up his neck and into his hair, where she scrubbed insistently at his scalp. A low, rumbling purr erupted from his chest, and she couldn’t suppress a giggle. Not ceasing her ministrations to his head, she lowered her nose to nudge at his jaw and cheek, peppering gentle kisses across all the skin she could reach. 

Finally, just a few minutes before he had to meet his next client, he spun his chair around and hauled her back into his arms. Nestling happily into his embrace, she moaned quietly as he pressed a tender kiss against her neck. 

Reluctantly, he pulled away. “Forgive me, Kagome; this meeting is extremely important.” 

She smiled, brushing his bangs off his forehead as though she expected to see a crescent moon under them. “I understand; I knew you weren’t going to be able to spend the afternoon with me. I just wanted to see you.” She grinned. “And make sure you ate something.” 

He chuckled. “Thank you, mother.” 

She swatted good-naturedly at his shoulder as they both rose. “I’ll stop acting like a mother when you stop needing one,” she teased, and was rewarded with a tiny smile at the corner of his mouth. Her gaze softened. “Look after yourself, OK?” She kissed his chin, and he drew her into a tight embrace. 

They walked out together into Yura’s office, where his next client was already waiting. Kagome sent him her sunniest smile, and he returned it with a small quirking of his own mouth. She counted it as a victory. 

Just before she’d reached the door, she heard him call out after her. 

“Kagome?” His voice was soft, uncertain. She turned around, raising her eyebrows. 

“Dinner tonight?” He seemed unsure; unsure she’d want to see him. How strange! 

She grinned and nodded. “Call me when you’re done.” He nodded in acknowledgement. She gave him a mock salute. “Knock ’em dead, killer,” she called over her shoulder as the elevator doors opened – then, once inside, she stuck her head out again to clarify. “Not literally!” The doors closed, and she was gone. 

Sesshoumaru shook his head, snorting in amusement. He hadn’t noticed the looks of amazement at his small almost-smile, nor the profound relief on the face of the man who was coming in for the meeting. Nor, indeed, how smug Yura was looking. He was still reveling in the soothing touch of Kagome’s hands and the smell of spring rain in his office.

...

He did manage to see her that night, but not for dinner; more emergencies were arising as people panicked about the instability caused by the newly-reported youkai witchhunts, and he called her at seven to tell her not to wait for him. But at ten thirty, he knocked on her door with a look of such aching need in his eyes that Kagome pulled him inside and didn’t even say a word to him before she started stripping off his jacket and tie, tossing them in a corner. He let out a trembling breath as her hands slid under her his shirt, and tore both shirts over his head, the buttons of his cuffs popping and pinging against various surfaces before chasing each other across the floor. She slid her tongue across one of his nipples as her hands made short work of his belt and trousers; he gasped at the electricity that jolted down his spine at the gentle scrape of her teeth. 

As he stumbled out of his shoes and socks, still leaning against her front door, Kagome stripped quickly; by the time he’d freed himself of his second shoe, she was pressing her naked form against him. She suppressed a shivering moan at the contact – his chest was hard against the softness of her breasts, her nipples pert and grazing tantalizingly at his skin. She twined her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. Nipping lightly at his lower lip, she slipped her tongue wantonly into his mouth. He groaned softly into the kiss, hands roaming her body to mold her tighter against him. 

Suddenly she found herself lifted by strong hands; she started to wrap her legs around his waist, but soon found that he was lifting her too high for that. He allowed her to lean her back against the door, the coolness of the wood in marked contrast to the heat of her body, as he draped her knees over his shoulders and breathed deeply, his nose at the juncture of her thighs. She shivered, feeling more vulnerable than she’d ever felt – but it was an exhilarating kind of vulnerability, one that increased the heat throbbing through her limbs and made her feel reckless and wanton. 

When he flicked his tongue across her most intimate of places, she couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her; she pressed the back of one hand hard across her mouth to muffle any more sounds, and her eyes rolled back in bliss. Her other hand found its way into his black hair; he hummed softly against her in pleasure as her nails scraped his scalp, the vibrations sending sparks of unbearable pleasure skittering up her spine. 

As his tongue ignited a deep, pulsing ache in her belly, the sounds and sights of his own pleasure had Kagome’s body tightening in need. He breathed her scent, sighing in bliss; he lapped at her, closing his eyes to savor what he found; his hands under her ass were clenching in his own pleasure. She found that nothing had ever turned her on so much as watching Sesshoumaru enjoy her body. 

Soon she was arching up from the door, biting the back of her wrist hard to keep herself from screaming as her body shattered in earthshaking pleasure. Sesshoumaru let out a low, contented growl, kissing the insides of her thighs gently, and began to lower her from her perch. 

When she’d finally reached the right height, she threw her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist; surprised, he caught her under the ass with one strong hand and hoisted her a little higher, the movement grinding his erection against the slick heat between her legs. He groaned into her hair. She leaned back in his arms, pressing her wetness against him; his eyes were wide, wild, as he drew back to search her face. She smiled and rotated her hips against him; his eyes rolled back in his head for a moment, and then she was pressed up against the door again, and he was inside her. 

She slammed her lips against his, desperate; she tasted her own juices on his lips, musk and tang and salt and spice, but the need to kiss him, to taste him, was so strong that she didn’t care. His tongue thrust into her mouth as his body thrust into hers; she gasped, throwing her head back, as she felt another tremendous orgasm approaching. He buried his face in her neck and drew back from the door, strong hands slamming her body down over his throbbing cock; Kagome closed her eyes as the sensations became too much. There was a desperate, coiling pleasure rolling through her; she pressed her mouth against his shoulder. 

And then his hands tightened on her ass; his thrusts became erratic; his teeth bared in an incoherent snarl of pure, white-hot pleasure; he threw his head back in triumph, nostril flaring, biting his lip so hard he drew blood. The sight of his abandon sent Kagome hurtling over her own precipice; she bit his shoulder, hard, as her body convulsed in ecstasy, her vision going white. 

When she opened her eyes, gasping for breath, the sight that met her made her smile. His eyes were still closed, his chest heaving; she leaned her head against his chest, listening to the strangely slow, intense throbbing of his heart. 

Finally, he recovered enough to nuzzle her hair and set her feet on the ground, withdrawing from her. She stumbled slightly, her legs feeling like jelly – he caught her by the elbow to steady her, and she blushed. He was licking his lips, cleaning the few drops of blood from where his teeth had pierced the skin, testing it with a finger to be sure it was no longer bleeding. She smiled up at him, suddenly shy.

“Hi,” she said quietly, face flaming as she bent to collect her clothing. 

“Hi,” he murmured in response, pulling her back against him. She sighed into his chest as his strong arms cradled her. 

“You can’t stay, can you?” 

She felt him shake his head above her, and burrowed into his shoulder, fighting her disappointment. His voice was low when he finally spoke. “I wish I could.” His lips brushed her forehead, and she closed her eyes. 

“I apologize,” he said quietly, drawing away from her. She blinked at him. “I should not have come.” She drew back, hurt – it wasn’t worth it to him? He wished he hadn’t come? He closed his eyes, sighing; he looked suddenly exhausted. 

“All I mean,” he whispered, opening his eyes and trailing a finger down her cheek, “is that you deserve so much more than this – a brief rut, good night and thank you. I just ...” He shook his head. “The desire to see you, even for a moment, was so strong I couldn’t resist it.” Her eyes had softened, and he cupped her cheek in his palm. One corner of his mouth quirked up. “Though I didn’t anticipate the greeting I got.” 

“You complaining?” she teased, smiling up at him. 

“ _God_ no.” 

She grinned, and together they started trying to locate all their discarded items of clothing. It felt strange and crass to be dressing in the entryway; she asked if he wanted to stay just a little while longer, maybe relocate to the bedroom, but he shook his head regretfully. 

“If I don’t leave now, I never will,” he murmured, shrugging on his jacket and looking at her with a longing that left her breathless. She fought back the urge to tell him that she wouldn’t mind – he obviously needed to go, and she shouldn’t make it any harder for him than it already was. 

He took her hand, running a thumb across the back of it in gentle reassurance. Suddenly he stopped, and a strange expression crossed his face. He lifted the hand, pushing her sleeve back, and frowned down at a little circle of red crescents – where she’d bitten her hand in the throes of passion. He kissed the mark tenderly and drew her into one last embrace. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself so much, Kagome,” he whispered, voice dark with longing, “but try not to do yourself any damage in the future.” 

She laughed into his shoulder. “In the future, let’s do it someplace where I don’t have a kitsune’s ears to worry about.” 

“Agreed.” 

One more long, slow kiss, and he left, the door closing behind him with a decisive click. She sighed, sagging against the door behind him, barely believing that had just happened. What was she turning into? 

And why didn’t she mind?


	8. Chapter 8

On Friday, Sesshoumaru called to tell her he’d run into more problems in the office, and he’d just see her the following day; she sighed, but was getting used to it. And in any case, the time they did spend together was so good – she couldn’t really complain. 

She and Shippou arrived at the Taisho mansion around midday Saturday with a basket full of bentos specially packed by Kagome’s mother. Rin exclaimed over the little hot-dog octopuses, and even Sesshoumaru closed his eyes in contentment at the first bite of her mother’s homemade dango.

The afternoon wore on, and sunset found the adults sitting on the edge of the back porch, looking out over the gardens. The evening was still, and the only sounds were soothing ones: the gentle murmur of a small waterfall, the buzz of a few prowling insects, the breathless laughter of the children.

Sesshoumaru’s mind, however, was not on the peaceful stillness of the garden. His eyes were narrowed; the political situation was wearing on his nerves, even as it was creating chaos in his businesses. The anti-youkai factions were growing bolder and more powerful every day; they had begun raiding private homes, kidnapping full youkai families when they could, but more often stealing away the children of mixed families. Like theirs. Both of theirs. 

He scowled out at the children who were so blissfully unconcerned by the dangers of the world. They were engaged in some kind of game of tag; Shippou was clearly playing gently with Rin, moving slowly to make the game more fair. The bracelet around his wrist caught the fading sunlight and glinted brightly before fading into shadow again. 

“Kagome,” he said suddenly, his scowl deepening. Her eyes turned to him, luminous as gems in the reddening light. “Does Shippou wear his concealment at home?” 

She frowned, surprised by the non-sequitur. “Not usually, no. Why?”

He glared ferociously at the nearest tree. “It’s dangerous. Anyone could see him.” His voice was low; almost a growl. Kagome found herself getting defensive. 

“He’s a kitsune; his illusions are strong enough that if we have unexpected company he can hold a human form until he gets his bracelet on. He’s generally got it in his pocket if he’s not wearing it, anyway. It’s not a big deal.” His eyes were flashing when he looked at her. 

“It _is_ a ‘big deal.’ What if someone were to see him through a window? What if someone were to catch him in the background of a photo?” His voice was harsh enough to make her flinch, but he didn’t back down. Her eyes hardened. 

“I will not raise my son to be ashamed of what he is,” she hissed, indignant. “He is youkai. There is _nothing_ wrong with that. I don’t want him to have to pretend so hard to be human that he forgets his true nature!” 

Sesshoumaru rounded on her, growling. “And yet you would endanger the very thing most dear to him – his pack! If he is discovered, it could be the _end_ of him – the end of your family. Do you not consider the danger?” 

“Of course I’ve considered it!” she exploded, tears of helpless anger rising in her eyes. “It keeps me awake at night, wondering if we’ll be found out, wondering if he’ll be taken away from me. It _terrifies_ me, Sesshoumaru. That _my son_ could be ripped away from me because the bloody anti-youkai coalitions think mixed families are immoral.” She turned away from him, unable to look at his face. “But I don’t want to allow fear to rule my life, or his. Would you really have him live his whole life not even knowing what his face actually looks like?” 

He was all but snarling at her now. “I have gone for nearly a hundred years without seeing my own face – because it was _necessary_. You think I enjoy hiding my true nature from the world – from my own daughter? Wearing a bloody bracelet that makes me look human, that makes me look like I’m aging? Relying on magic and trickery to convince humans that I’m my own son when I’ve lived past the point when a human would have died, returning to college like a child for qualifications I’ve earned a hundred times over?”

“But it’s _wrong_ ,” she cried, tears streaming down her face now. “It’s _wrong_ , it shouldn’t have to _be_ that way!”

“It is how things are,” he grit out, each word deliberate. “And if you don’t stop being so willfuly blind, you’re going to end up finding out exactly _how_ wrong it is when you _lose your son_.” 

Without another word, she stood and fled into the house, the scent of her tears drifting after her. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, silently cursing himself. He’d wanted her to understand the severity of the situation, the potential repercussions – but _that_ wasn’t what he’d intended. 

Deciding to give her space before he apologized for upsetting her, he watched the children run unconcerned through the garden. He hated it – he _hated_ living in fear of these nameless bullies who ripped families apart in the name of morality, whose fearmongering had the human population convinced that youkai were a sinister force undermining the very fabric of society. He hated the idea that Rin could be taken away from him should anyone ever discover that he was youkai. He hated knowing that many other families had already been ripped apart, human children sent to orphanages and youkai pups shipped off to god-knows-where, where they’d never be seen again. He hated that youkai had to cloak themselves, had to blend in, had to hide, had to cower. He _hated_ it. But fighting it wasn’t worth the risk of losing Rin.

Kagome’s phone rang from inside the house; he found himself listening to her one-sided conversation. His heart clenched in his chest at the thickness of her voice, the slightly hiccupping breaths; he’d upset her, badly. 

“Hello, sir; yes, thank you, my son’s doing well. Yes, sir, I finished that before I left yesterday; it’s on my desk, in the blue folder.” There was a pause; she took a shaky breath. “Oh! Yes, sir, that’s very exciting. He wants it collected this evening?” Another pause. “Sure, that’s no problem. That’s on the bus line, right?” A polite laugh. “No, sir, I still don’t have a car. It’s not such a big deal in a city like this one!” He heard the scratching of a pen. “Yes, sir, got it. Eight PM. I’ll be there!” Another pause. “No problem; I’m happy to do it.” Pause. “You too, sir. See you Monday.” 

She emerged from the house and strode to the edge of the porch without looking at him. “Shippou!” she called. “We need to go, sweetheart.” 

With a pout, the kit materialized at her feet. “I don’t wanna leave,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Shippou, don’t do this. I have to collect a donation for the museum; we need to get to the shrine so grandmama can look after you while I’m gone.” Her tone was tired, entirely devoid of the cheery sweetness he’d grown accustomed to – it made his chest ache to know that he was responsible for its lack. 

“He can stay,” Sesshoumaru offered quietly. 

“We can have a sleepover!” Rin cried, finally catching up; she was out of breath, but the prospect of a sleepover seemed to give her new energy. 

Kagome closed her eyes, looking defeated. “Fine,” she said quietly, and the children cheered. She opened her eyes again, and knelt to look Shippou in the eye. “You be good for Sesshoumaru-san, OK? No tricks; you do what he tells you.” 

“Yes, mama,” he said earnestly, seeming concerned by her sudden seriousness. 

She rose and turned to go back in the house, then paused as she passed Sesshoumaru, eyes still on the door. “Thank you,” she said, her voice carefully neutral. 

“Will you come back tonight?” he asked quietly. Shippou would be asleep by the time she returned in any case; would she just pick him up in the morning? Or would she come back to spend the night by his side?

“I...” She shook her head, gulping slightly. “I don’t know.” 

He nodded, eyes still on the garden. “At least let me give you a ride to the train station. It’s a long walk. If you don’t want me to drive you, you can take the limo.” 

She shook her head. “I think I could use the walk. To ... clear my head.” He sighed, and she shot a small glance over at him. “But thanks.” 

A hug and a kiss for each of the children, and she was gone. 

Not half an hour later, a jangling sound interrupted the dinner he was sharing with the children; he frowned. It was Kagome’s phone. The housekeeper brought it to him, and left it at his elbow with a brief bow in case he wanted to answer it. He glowered at the little device as though it were responsible for its owner’s forgetfulness. The name flashing across the screen was “Mom”; he decided not to worry Higurashi-san by answering, which would let her know that her daughter was without a phone. The thought that Kagome was on her own in the city, without any way to contact him should she need him, made his beast rear up in fury and concern – but then again, he reminded himself, she was an adult who could look after herself. And she was unlikely to call him right now in any case. Fighting down a lingering sense of unease, he resumed his dinner. 

...

The children were settled happily in front of a movie when his own phone rang. Inuyasha. Knowing it would take all his control to keep from shouting at his brother – and/or destroying his phone – he left the housekeeper to watch over the children and removed himself to his office to take the call. 

“What.” He couldn’t get out any more of a greeting than that. 

“Listen, asshole, I don’t want to hear it. I’ve spent two weeks trying to figure out what to say to you; just hear me out, and I’ll leave you alone.” He ground his teeth at the whelp’s insolence; he knew he should be used to it by now, but on top of what he’d done to Kagome ... it was unbearable. He grunted. 

Inuyasha took that as permission. “I’m sure she’s told you about what happened. If you want to rip my face off for it, fine; there is nothing you could do to me that I wouldn’t deserve. But I want you to know one thing.” He paused, as if to make sure his brother was still there. Sesshoumaru drew a deep breath, willing himself to stay calm. The scars on Kagome’s side flashed through his mind, and he found that he was gripping the arm of his chair hard enough to splinter the wood. 

“Say what you’re going to say, whelp.” His voice was hoarse and gravelly. 

“Sesshoumaru,” his brother started, and his voice was strangely low – not his usual aggressive, posturing bluster, but earnest, serious. “You could live the next thousand years as a saint, and you would never deserve Kagome. She has the purest heart of anyone I’ve ever known – the most open, the most loving. And because I’m a fucking failure, I almost destroyed it. So I’m going to keep as far out of her life as I can; the _last_ thing I want is to hurt her _more_. But you—” He took a ragged breath. “If you are using her, Sesshoumaru, so help me god I will kill you or die trying.”

He blinked as his brother’s words sank in. For a moment, there was silence, save Inuyasha’s heavy breathing on the other end of the line. All he could think about was her tears as she’d left. He’d sworn he would never hurt her, and she’d fled from him, weeping. 

He closed his eyes, trying to regain his composure. His brother had humbled himself completely; even after everything he’d done, he deserved an answer. “Inuyasha,” he said, finally. “You have my word.” 

His brother let out a shaky breath. “You’re not just using her as an easy fuck?” 

“Watch your mouth, whelp,” he growled, his beast rising at the insult. “She is more to me than you will ever know.” 

“Good.” The word was said with a deliberate finality, and a tinge of relief. “Keep her safe.” 

“Mind your own business, half-breed; I protect what is mine.” Sesshoumaru’s words no longer held any true anger. The conversation had drained him; he felt guilty for angering her, anxious for her return. He wanted her in his arms; he wanted to breathe her scent and listen to her heartbeat, sure that she was safe and happy. He sighed as he ended the call. 

The children finished their movie, and Sesshoumaru and the housekeeper shepherded them through washing up and getting ready for bed. Although there were plenty of guest rooms, the children had begged and pleaded until Shippou was allowed to sleep in Rin’s room on a mattress laid out on the floor. Sesshoumaru tucked Rin in with a kiss, and started to slip out of the room. 

“Sesshoumaru-san?” came the quiet voice of the kitsune. 

“Hn,” he answered, indicating he was listening. 

“I’m sorry about your fight with my mama. If it’ll make things better, I’ll wear my concealment all the time.” Sesshoumaru blinked hard; a foreign tightness was building in his chest. He should have known that the boy was listening; distracted or not, he still had demon hearing. He knelt by the boy’s side and lay a reassuring hand on his head. 

“Sleep, kit. It was not your doing.” It was all he could say. He wanted to reassure the boy that he and Kagome would work everything out, that everything would be OK – but he couldn’t make any more promises he wasn’t sure he could keep. 

“Good night, Sesshoumaru-san. I’m glad you’re here to look after mama.” The kit nuzzled his hand affectionately; a gesture of pack. He returned the gesture by rubbing gently behind the boy’s ear. Shippou sighed contentedly and shut his eyes; Sesshoumaru made his escape. 

Unable to focus on his work, he left his study and began prowling aimlessly through the house. He found himself standing in the darkness on the back porch, where they’d sat together a few hours before. The moon had risen behind the clouds; a chill wind was whipping through the garden, the scents of the city whirling past him in a dizzying dance. His heart was pounding in his chest; he could feel every pulse as it shot blood through his limbs just a little harder than necessary.

The jangling of his phone shattered the silence and sent adrenaline charging through his veins. He drew the infernal thing out of his pocket and snarled at it – it was a number he didn’t recognize. 

“Taisho,” he snapped. 

“Sessh—Sesshoumaru?” Her voice was hesitant; she was frightened. The adrenaline rush redoubled. 

“Kagome. Where are you?” 

“I’m at a pay phone; it’s so dark, and I think I’m being followed—”

“Where. Are. You.” He was struggling to keep himself under control; his beast was howling in fury, demanding they find her at once, railing at him for having let her out of his sight to begin with. 

“I’m in San’ya, on the corner of ...” She paused. “I can’t read the signs, it’s too dark.” 

He was already running, knowing that his demon speed would get him there faster than any car. Any humans he passed would just think he was a particularly strong gust of wind. He leaped up onto a rooftop; fewer obstacles to slow him down. Cupping his hand over the end of the phone to shield it from the wind of his passage, he asked, “Are there any shops you can go into; restaurants, cafes?”

“No,” she whimpered; there was panic edging her voice again. “Everything’s dark – there’s nothing around.” 

“Keep talking to me,” he ordered.

“I forgot my phone, but I still had your card in my wallet, thank god. The address—the address was fake, there was nothing there,” she gasped; he could hear tears in her voice. “It must have been some kind of practical joke.” She gasped suddenly, and her voice sank to a frantic whisper. “There are people coming towards me.” He could hear her heartbeat through the phone, thundering in terror. “Sesshoumaru—” 

“Kagome,” he said, willing his voice to stay calm. “I’m going to be there soon. Just hold on.” 

The next thing he heard was a man’s silky voice addressing Kagome. “Hey, there, demon-lover.” Her voice, crying, “Get away from me!” – then the line went dead. 

The city was flying under his feet; he’d be in San’ya in moments. He began frantically scenting the air, willing the hunter in him to come out after so many years of repression. He’d almost forgotten how to use his nose in a delicate, difficult hunt; for decades, it had served him as little more than a lie detector. Now, he sifted through the scents of the city – the smoke, the chemicals, the sewers, the endless, endless numbers of humans. 

_Kagome_. There.

He dropped silently into the black end of an alley; the air was thick with the scent of her terror, and three men’s cruel excitement. And arousal. Tearing off his concealment, he allowed his fangs and claws to lengthen, felt his beast take over his body – and gladly surrendered the reins. 

She was being dragged into the alley; two men were holding her, one taunting her, _touching_ her; he grabbed at her shirt, smirking wickedly as she screamed in protest, a stream of blood leaking from the corner of her mouth – he had hit her. He’d _hit_ her. 

“Fools.” His voice was little more than a growl; more animal than human. He stepped out from the shadows and into the watery moonlight. The three men stared at him in horror; he drank in their fear like wine. He knew very well what he looked like – his eyes glowing red, his mouth elongating into a fanged, feral grin, his hair billowing out behind him with the force of his youki. He was a wrathful angel, and they were in hell. 

What happened next was a blur. The two men holding Kagome released her and tried to run, and she sagged against the wall of the alley, sinking to the ground and curling around herself. He stood between her and the man who remained; a flash of his whip, and the other two had been caught, dragged back into the alley, and hurled against the back wall with such force that they crumpled to the ground in a shower of broken brick. 

The remaining man looked at him in disgust, and pulled a sutra from his sleeve. “Demon be gone!” he shouted, throwing the slip of paper at Sesshoumaru’s face; it stuck to his forehead for a moment, then burst into flames and disappeared, leaving the enraged face of the beast unmarred. The man’s disgust and disdain evaporated into a look of sheer terror. He turned to run, but Sesshoumaru caught him by the collar. 

“Die.” Calling his poison into his claws, he reveled in the scent of smoking flesh. 

“N-no,” came a small voice behind him. He turned, crimson eyes lighting on the tiny figure who huddled against the wall behind him. “Please don’t kill him,” she gasped. 

His eyes narrowed. The man hurt her. He had to pay. But the scent of his bitch’s tears was calling to him; she was frightened, and needed comfort. With a snarl, he brought the man’s face even with his own, memorizing his scent, breathing in hatred and sweat and terror and urine from where the man had pissed himself. He shook him once, deliberately. The man whimpered.

“Tonight,” he growled low, “you live. Because of her.” He tossed him away, noting with satisfaction the way his head cracked against the wall. 

Turning to Kagome, he knelt beside her and ran his hands gently over her to check for injuries, scenting her carefully. She wasn’t bleeding anywhere save her lip, and that was superficial; she was still afraid, but otherwise unharmed. Finally, his examination finished, he met her eyes, knowing his own were still glowing red. 

She shivered, her blue eyes wide. He knew he was frightening her, but he couldn’t stop – his fury was still too great. He ached to reach out for her, to pull her close and reassure her, but didn’t want to alarm her further. 

“Sesshoumaru?” she asked, her voice trembling. 

“We are here, little one,” he rumbled, his voice still the low growl of the beast. “You are safe.” 

With a gasping sob, she threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. A deep, soothing rumble erupted from his chest as he wrapped her in his arms, mindful of his claws, and nuzzled her temple with his cheek. She was sobbing into his shoulder with abandon; he stroked her hair, kissing her forehead and licking gently at her tears. She giggled at the strange sensation, her shock and terror gradually fading. 

“Come,” he said softly, cradling her in his arms and rising to his feet. “We return.” For a long moment she looked at his face – eyes red, markings jagged, deadly fangs jutting down over his bottom teeth. Then she leaned forward and kissed him. 

For a moment, he couldn’t respond. She accepted him. She accepted _them_. The taste of her blood, the scrape of her blunt human teeth on his lower lip, the bold little tongue exploring his fangs – she overwhelmed his senses, and he whimpered into her mouth. Smiling, she drew back, and lay a small hand on his cheek, covering the jagged-edged stripes. 

“Take me home?” she whispered, leaning her head against his shoulder. His arms tightened around his precious burden, and he took off into the night sky.


	9. Chapter 9

Following her assault, Sesshoumaru informed Kagome in his insufferably imperious way that she and Shippou would be moving in with him. Her protests did nothing; he had heard the epithet ‘youkai-lover’ from her attacker, and knew that it was not a random mugging. Someone was targeting her because they’d found out about Shippou, or Sesshoumaru, or both. 

Kagome was holding her own reasonably well – insisting that she was fine, that now that she knew about it she’d just avoid doing things like walking in unfamiliar areas alone at night – until Sesshoumaru decided to play dirty. He paid a visit to her mother. 

Higurashi Yuriko was a kind woman, but when she found out about the attack on her daughter, Sesshoumaru could see the bloodlust rising in her eyes. It took him less than five minutes to convince her that his solution was the best one; even though this was their first time meeting in person, Yuriko was a good judge of character, and Kagome had told her mother enough about him that she trusted his intentions. And if anyone could keep her daughter safe, it was a powerful daiyoukai ... who was head over heels in love with her. A mother knows. 

Now that her mother, her lover, and soon her brother and son were all working on her, Kagome found her resolve wavering. Finally, she agreed that she’d pack Monday night, and they’d move Tuesday or Wednesday. Her only reward for her – dare she say it – _admirable_ adaptability was Sesshoumaru’s unbearable smugness. 

...

At work on Monday, her boss was horrified by the bruise at the corner of her mouth – and when he heard that the collection location had been a fake, he flew into a rage unlike any Kagome had seen before. The nickname ‘fire-breather’ no longer struck her as a tongue-in-cheek irony for a sweet old man; if she hadn’t known better, she’d have sworn he would _actually_ start spouting fire. He tore into the intern who’d taken the call, demanding that it be traced, that they find out who was responsible. 

Finally, turning to Kagome, he apologized over and over, assuring her that as far as they knew, the call had come from a reputable donor. They’d had many dealings with him in the past, and knew him to be idiosyncratic, so an 8PM collection in San’ya was not out of character. She assured him that it was fine, that she just wouldn’t go alone in the future. He stared at her as if she’d turned into a three-eyed cow. 

“Higurashi-san,” he started, speaking slowly as though to a small child. “You are not going on any more collection errands. In fact, you’re not going anywhere alone again, if I have any say in the matter.” 

She couldn’t help rolling her eyes with a sigh; everyone was so determined to protect her that soon she’d have security guards escorting her to the toilet. 

Settling in to work was difficult; halfway through the morning, one of her coworkers – a young weapons expert named Sango – dropped a newspaper on her desk, and pointed to one of the articles. It was more hateful rhetoric about the way that youkai threatened the fabric of society, undermining human values and destroying the world as we know it. The paper praised the brave humans who were standing in the face of youkai oppression, tracking down the insidious devils and exposing their true nature. It noted, in passing, that more raids were happening every day; every day, more youkai threats were being exposed and expelled. She hurled the paper across the room, sickened. 

Sango raised an eyebrow. “Not a proponent of the anti-youkai movement?” she asked noncommittally. 

“How can these monsters talk about youkai oppressing humans? It’s not like we’re the ones in hiding!” she fumed, turning away from the girl before she said anything more incriminating than that. As she turned back to give her coworker a reassuring smile, she caught the tail-end of something; Sango was exchanging a meaningful look with the boss, who was standing at her office door and had heard every word. 

Before Kagome was even sure of what she’d seen, Sango had called out a cheery farewell and both of them were gone. 

“Wow,” she breathed, alone in her office again, “I’ve got a really bad feeling about all this.” 

...

She didn’t have more than a few hours’ peace before her prediction was fulfilled. 

Her phone rang in the middle of the afternoon; it was Sesshoumaru.

“Hi!” she chirped, pleased at the unusual contact. 

“Meet me outside,” he commanded, his voice thrumming with authority. “Five minutes.” 

“Wha...?” she stuttered. 

“Five minutes. Inform your supervisor that it’s an emergency. I’ll be outside the building by then.”

She blinked, processing everything. Emergency. “O-OK. See you in five.” He had already hung up. 

She grabbed her purse, told her boss everything she knew, and darted out the door just as the Jaguar screamed up to the curb. She hopped in, and they peeled away so quickly Kagome found herself gripping the dash with white knuckles.

“Sesshoumaru?” she gasped as he sped through a yellow light, swerving around a number of slower-moving cars. “What in the world?”

“Rin called me from school,” he growled through clenched teeth, eyes not leaving the road for an instant. “A raid.”

Kagome’s heart dropped into her stomach. _Shippou_. Oh, god, they were going to take Shippou away from her. She clenched her fingers around the rim of the dash, closing her eyes and trying to breathe, reminding herself that there was no possible way she could get there faster than Sesshoumaru was driving. 

The school was in chaos by the time they arrived. There was a group of anti-youkai protesters picketing around the perimeter, signs reading “Not in MY schools!” and “Animals don’t need education” waving in time to hate-filled chants. They ducked through the mass of protesters, pushing their way inside. Sesshoumaru grabbed her hand and charged down one of the hallways, and she followed him with no hesitation.

A group of humans in Shinto monks’ robes were circling a group of cages in the school’s gym, led by a man with an impressive spiritual aura. Off to the side, children were weeping in terror, helpless teachers trying to calm them, trying to shoo them outside; some parents had appeared, looking frantic and confused. Rin was there, her face splotchy from crying; she darted over to them as they came in, clutching her father desperately and pointing to the center of the room, sobbing incoherently.

In the cages were children. 

The men were chanting, and even as they watched, the children’s concealments broke one by one and clattered uselessly to the floor. A cat hanyou, a tanuki, a snake youkai, a pair of twin hares. And Shippou.

“Ungai-sama,” one of the men cried from near the cages. “Are there any more?”

“No,” answered the man with the holy aura. “I sense no more demons here.” Kagome squeezed Sesshoumaru’s hand, hard. The mask on his aura was still in place, but he needed to keep it there. 

Reaching the edge of the crowd, Kagome dropped his hand and stepped in front of him, ignoring his warning growl. 

Kagome stepped forward, fury giving her a ferocious dignity. A wind began to pick up as she released her aura, tossing the men’s robes; she walked slowly, deliberately towards the cages in the center of the room. 

She stopped in front of the priest, Ungai. Her reiki flared to life around her, and she stood like a wrathful goddess in a towering pillar of blinding light. A barrier protected the children from the onslaught of her purity; all save Shippou were cowering in terror. 

“You,” she said in a low voice. Ungai was chanting, fingers deftly manipulating his prayer beads; he was trying to assert his aura over hers. Her lips twisted in a sneer, and he dropped to his knees, overwhelmed. All the other men had dropped to their knees as well, their foreheads touching the floor. 

“I am the miko of the Shikon no Tama.” Her voice was pulsing with power, the winds of her reiki whipping around her faster, lifting her hair and swirling it madly over her head. “I protect the innocent.” 

Sending out tendrils of her aura, she found the sutras that bound the cages and flexed her will, snapping them. The cage doors fell open, and the children scattered. Shippou cowered behind Sesshoumaru, creating a dark-haired human illusion for himself as soon as he was out of the spotlight. Rin grabbed him by the hand, and he clung to her like a lifeline. 

Her most important goal accomplished, Kagome returned her eyes to the enraged priest where he knelt under the crushing weight of her aura. 

“This world has no need for further hatred,” she murmured, her flinty eyes belying the gentleness of her words. “The kami will not thank you when you join them.” 

She pressed against him with her aura again, and he gasped, flattening against the floor. “Out of my sight, filth,” she spat, allowing him to rise just long enough to flee from her. 

She reined in her purity, chest heaving with exertion and suppressed rage as the wind around her gusted and died. When she turned, she found that a whole gymnasium full of spectators were gaping at her. 

“What are you looking at?” she snapped irritably. “Take your kids and get out of here.” 

Almost as one, the crowd turned to flee through the congested double-doors. No one wanted to deal with a crazy miko on a rampage. 

In the chaos, she made her way to where Sesshoumaru, Rin, and Shippou were waiting. Sesshoumaru took a step towards her, wincing, and nearly fell; Kagome gasped and caught him around the waist, bracing her shoulder under one of his armpits to keep him upright. 

“Fuck!” she cursed, kicking herself. She shouldn’t have released so much purity; of course he couldn’t create a barrier without drawing attention to himself. He must have been restraining his aura completely, just allowing her purity to burn away at his youki instead of letting it protect him. “Oh god, Sesshoumaru, I’m so sorry – are you OK?” 

He gasped, closing his eyes and leaning his head against hers. “You,” he whispered, his voice cracking, “were spectacular.”

Together, the three of them managed to guide a stumbling Sesshoumaru back through the picket line, a little kitsune sleight-of-hand distracting the humans at key moments. She settled him into the passenger seat and rifled through his pockets for his keys, blushing as her hands brushed his thighs through the thin fabric of his pockets. He groaned and opened his eyes, pinning her with a smoldering gaze. She kissed him softly. 

“When you’ve rested, cowboy,” she promised. “Now let’s get you home.” 

“Hn,” he grunted, closing his eyes again and allowing her to look after him. 

...

Every second that Kagome had to fumble around in the Jaguar was pure agony: scooting the driver’s seat forward, adjusting the mirrors, trying to figure out which button did what on the high-tech steering column. Someone would see them, they would be seen, they would be _caught_ – her panic was screaming at her in time to the beat of her heart, making her hands tremble as she finally turned the key in the ignition. No one stopped her as she pulled away.

As she put miles between her family and their hunters, she grew gradually calmer, though she couldn’t stop obsessively checking the rearview mirror. She clenched her hands tight around the steering wheel; everything had just gotten so complicated. Shippou was exposed. She was implicated. Sesshoumaru and Rin were still safe, so far as she knew, but the more she associated with them, the more they’d be targeted as well. She had no idea what to do. 

But before she could make any decisions, she had to look after Sesshoumaru. He’d slipped into unconsciousness somewhere during the ride home; by the time they’d reached the house, his breathing was shallow and labored. Rin leaped out of the car and got the housekeeper and butler to help Kagome hoist Sesshoumaru out of the seat; it required all three of them, but they managed to get him up the stairs and onto his bed. The servants asked no questions, but Kagome could feel the weight of their worry, and it only served to increase her own guilt and panic. He shouldn’t be this badly off. He shouldn’t be worsening. He must have used his last reserves of power to get out of the school – which meant he’d depleted even those. His youki was too low to regenerate. Which meant that there was a chance ... _no_. She would _not_ allow him to die. 

“I’ll look after him,” she stated abruptly as the butler began to remove his master’s shoes. Four pairs of eyes turned to her; Shippou and Rin in understanding, the housekeeper and butler in skeptical concern. 

It was Rin who managed to resolve the issue, by the simple expedient of taking the housekeeper and the butler by the hand and tugging. Having gotten both the adults’ attention, she guided them out of the room, Shippou in tow, and smiled brightly at Kagome as she shut the door behind them. Kagome almost wilted in relief; thank god for little Rin and her intuition. 

“OK, Sesshoumaru,” she whispered, turning back to his prone form and tenderly brushing the hair off his forehead. “Hang in there, you hear me?” 

She removed his concealment with deft fingers; it was much older than Shippou’s, but of the same rough design. Laying it carefully on the bedside table, she turned to the silver-haired demon beside her and loosened his collar and cuffs, removing his tie, jacket, belt, and socks and laying them aside. When he was as comfortable as she could make him, she knelt beside him on the bed, drawing her aura into her hands. 

Gathering her courage, she reached out for his aura. It was drained and so weak she could barely sense it, but it pulsed insistently at her when she stroked it with her own power; she almost laughed. The man didn’t know how to not be pushy. 

Gently, tenderly, she offered her soul to his – not her purity, that blinding light that burned away at the darkness of youki, but her soul itself, using her aura as a mere conduit. Sesshoumaru’s power shrank from her at first, hesitant; it recognized a miko when it sensed one. Finally, though, it reached out tentatively to her, connecting with her – she felt something like a shuddering sigh of relief from him, and poured all her love into the connection, mindless of the tears streaming down her face. His power swelled and grew, accepting what she offered him; he took her strength, and used it to rebuild his own. 

A low grunt from under her startled her, and she looked down to find golden eyes frowning at her in confusion. Suddenly he seemed to realize what she was doing; with a gasp, he yanked his power away from her, terminating the connection and leaving her feeling strangely bereft. She smiled at his scowling face even as her vision blurred; the darkness that claimed her echoed with the sound of his voice calling her name.


	10. Chapter 10

Kagome woke to the feeling of bright morning sunlight on her face and groaned, scrubbing at her eyes. She felt like she’d been hit by a truck – every muscle in her body was sore, and she was bone-weary, although she felt like she’d been asleep for a week. She looked around her, confused; this wasn’t her apartment. Then she realized she was wearing nothing but an oversized men’s t-shirt, and blushed profusely. She soon had another belated realization: there were two warm bodies curled up on the bed with her, one on either side. 

Blinking down the bed, she found a head of rusty red hair on her right and one of mussed black hair on her left. Shippou and Rin. They were both all right; they were both here. No one had taken them away. She almost wept in relief, clutching them close.

At the movement, Shippou shook his head groggily and blinked up at her. His eyes lit with joy. 

“Mama!” he cried, throwing himself into her arms and burying his face in her neck. She nuzzled him, stroking his hair and murmuring quiet reassurances. 

His shout had woken Rin, who curled silently closer to Kagome, burying her face in her side. Kagome wound one arm around the little girl, drawing her into a tight hug. 

Suddenly, Rin sat up, her eyes wide with some realization. 

“Kagome-san,” she whispered urgently. “Don’t go back to sleep, OK?” 

“OK, sweetie,” she agreed, laughing at the girl’s eagerness. Rin leaped off the bed and scampered out of the room, the door swinging open behind her. Before she’d taken two steps into the hall, she was calling for her father at the top of her lungs. 

Kagome had barely had time to process what was going on before Sesshoumaru was at her side, no concealment on, golden eyes dark with concern. She noted that neither Rin nor Shippou was concerned by his demon appearance, and smiled. 

“Hey, handsome,” she whispered, her voice weaker than she would have liked. “You look a lot better than you did the last time I saw you.” 

He scowled at her, running a clawed hand through her hair. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again, shaking his head. 

Rin had materialized on the far side of the bed. “Shippou-kun,” she whispered. “Let’s go play in my room.” Shippou looked at her, a momentary sullenness flickering over his features, before casting a glance at his mother and Sesshoumaru. With a sigh of resignation, he disentangled himself from his mother’s arms and followed Rin out of the bedroom, shutting the door carefully behind them. 

“Kagome,” Sesshoumaru breathed, leaning his forehead against hers. “Why did you _do_ that?” He drew back, cupping her jaw with one big hand; his eyes were dark and pained. “You could have died!” 

“Better me than you?” she laughed weakly, trying to make it sound like a joke, though they both knew she meant it. He snarled at her answer, taking her face between his palms and forcing her to look at him. 

“Kagome,” he growled. “Don’t _ever_ say a thing like that again.”

She bit her lip, looking down as she felt tears gathering in her eyes. He relented, biting back his anger to nuzzle her jaw with his nose, and she slid her hands into his silk-soft hair. Peppering light kisses across her cheek and jaw, he groaned softly when she rubbed his scalp, her fingers massaging a tender spot behind his ears. Encouraged, she moved to the ear itself, tracing the elfin outline with a fingertip. His breath caught in his throat. 

“Kagome,” he groaned, his voice husky. “Stop that.” 

She leaned forward, allowing her tongue to trace the path her fingers had just finished. “Make me,” she breathed, noting how goosebumps sprang up on his neck as her breath ghosted over his ear. 

Suddenly he was looming over her, his knees straddling her, looking down at her with an expression of such ferocious desire that she shivered. 

“Woman,” he growled. “You require rest.” 

“Youkai,” she answered, reaching down to rub his erection through his trousers. “I require _you_.”

He snarled in pleasure as she stroked him, lowering his head. She took advantage of his position and flicked her tongue across one of the magenta slashes on his cheek. 

He reared back, eyes flashing red. 

“Kagome,” he warned, his voice low and gravelly. “Cease.” 

She reached for his face, trailing her fingers ticklishly across his stripes. “I won’t break.”

“Please,” he growled, eyes now fully crimson, stripes growing jagged. His voice had deepened until it rumbled through his chest. 

“Please,” she begged in return, kissing him and slipping her tongue into his mouth, stroking his elongated fangs and tangling with his own tongue. A desperation was welling up in her, and she squeezed her eyes shut around burning tears. 

He drew back, panting; his crimson gaze was heavy and demanding.

“I thought you were going to die,” she whimpered, frantically trying to pull him back to her. “I thought I’d killed you.” 

He crushed her against his chest as she clung to him. “You nearly killed yourself,” he growled into her hair. “We nearly lost you.” Suddenly needing to feel skin against skin, they tore at each other’s clothes; Sesshoumaru rent the t-shirt off her body while she yanked fruitlessly at his shirttails. He drew back just long enough to rid himself of the cumbersome clothing, and threw the covers off her. Then he was beside her, on top of her, surrounding her, the reassuring weight of him and the feel of his skin against hers bringing tears of relief to her eyes. 

“Please,” she whimpered into his chest. “Please, I need you.”

Without another word, his hands and lips were on her body – stroking, teasing, tweaking, caressing, until she was arching against him, aching and desperate. His hand slipped between her thighs, and he growled in pleasure at the slickness he found. She cried out, grinding herself against his finger. 

Triumphant, he grabbed her by the hips and flipped her over, setting her on her knees and caging her smaller form with his own. Kagome had yelped in surprise at the motion, but was soon arching her back, pressing herself back against him. 

He snarled and sheathed himself in her roughly, the fury and fear and worry of the past few days all emerging in that one motion. She cried out under him, all pleasure and pain and desperate need, and he surged into her again. She bucked her hips, leaning back into him, trying to increase his pace, and he growled low at the challenge. Slamming himself into her in an ever-increasing rhythm, dominating her body, his beast thrilled with the pleasure of conquest when she finally stopped struggling and submitted to him, letting him give her pleasure as he took his own. She was trembling, whimpering, small sounds of pleading escaping her lips as he hammered into her; he slid one deadly hand down to where they were joined, and stroked her right where she craved it most intently. 

With a scream, she convulsed around him, her body shuddering and shaking as she flew apart. He roared in triumph, thrusting into her once, twice more before exploding in her body with a single word: _“MINE.”_

She was still twitching when he drew out of her and collapsed next to her, disentangling their legs and shifting her gently until she was lying on her back. He brushed the hair out of her face tenderly and kissed her cheek, frowning at the taste of her tears. Had he hurt her? Her eyes fluttered open to meet his now-golden gaze. 

“Yours?” she murmured sleepily. 

“If you wish to be,” he answered quietly, more diplomatic now that his instincts were no longer in control. After the brutal way he’d just taken her, he wouldn’t have blamed her for refusing. A stab of guilt shot through him at the exhaustion still lining her face. 

“Mm.” The little sound didn’t tell him much, but she sounded contented enough. She opened her eyes and met his worried gaze, then smiled her sweetest smile, lifting a hand to his cheek. 

“Mine,” she whispered, then closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. 

...

She woke again late that afternoon, and when she’d showered and dressed – scrubbing what felt like weeks of fuzz off her teeth, and grateful to find some of her own clothing in the room with her – she stumbled down the stairs. She peeked into the living room; Kotoko and the housekeeper were there with Rin and Shippou, watching a cartoon. Following the low sound of voices, she made her way into the kitchen. 

Sesshoumaru was sitting at the kitchen table with her mother and brother, his concealment conspicuously absent. Souta seemed a little shell-shocked; otherwise, though, they seemed to be taking things well. A floorboard creaked under her foot, drawing the two humans’ eyes. 

“Kagome!” her mother cried, leaping for her and catching her in a crushing hug. 

“Hi, mama,” she whispered, shutting her eyes around the tears that suddenly sprang up in them. 

Another pair of arms circled the two of them; she opened her eyes to meet her brother’s. “We have been so worried about you, Kags,” he whispered. “When we heard about the raid at the school on Monday, we tried calling you, and when you didn’t answer your phone ...” He shook his head. She squeezed her mother tight, then released her to return her brother’s hug. 

“Your apartment’s been wrecked, Kags,” he told her as they broke apart, and she stared at him uncomprehendingly as Sesshoumaru pulled out a chair for her at the table and guided her gently into it, then set a cup of brown rice tea in front of her. “Somebody broke in, totally ransacked the place. Mom and Kotoko and I went looking for you when you didn’t answer your phone, and when we found that ...” He looked away. 

“When Taisho-san called on Monday night to let us know what had happened, we were already frantic with worry.” Her mother was calmer now that her daughter was in front of her, clearly safe and healthy. 

“I’m sorry I worried you,” she whispered, reaching across the table to grab her mother’s hand. 

Yuriko shook her head. “I’m just glad you’re safe, Kagome. And I’m grateful to Taisho-san for keeping you that way.” Her piercing gaze slid over to the demon who hadn’t left Kagome’s side. Kagome smiled, and looked shyly up at Sesshoumaru. 

“Me, too.” He looked away, his face impassive. She almost laughed. 

Something occurred to her as she took her first sip of the tea, and she checked the clock: quarter past five. “What day is it?” 

“Thursday, sweetheart,” her mother answered sadly. “You’ve been out for almost three solid days.” 

“Three—” she started, turning to Sesshoumaru. He nodded, not meeting her eyes. She let out her breath in a low whoosh. “OK. Fill me in.” 

Her mother and brother exchanged glances, then both turned expectant eyes on Sesshoumaru. He sighed. “Very well. We have fifteen more minutes before the last of our guests arrives; I’ll tell you what I can.

“The raid on the school was an instant headline – ‘Miko protects youkai,’ I’m sure you can imagine the kind of things they were printing. You were all over the news, though thank god no one got any video, so there was some debate as to who you actually were. In response, the coalitions have gone ...” He paused, searching for the right word. 

“Totally fucking bonkers,” Souta provided helpfully, ignoring his mother’s reproachful glare. 

“Indeed,” Sesshoumaru agreed smoothly. “It is essentially mob rule in Tokyo at the moment; it is exceedingly unwise for youkai to set foot outside. Ungai’s gang and others like it are patrolling the streets, purifying anything with an aura.”

Kagome was staring at him in dismay, her face alarmingly pale. He scowled, reaching out for her. “Oh god,” she whimpered, putting her face in her hands. “This is all my fault.” 

“Kagome,” Sesshoumaru said forcefully, removing her hands from her face and capturing them between his own. “This is not your doing. You did what was necessary, and nothing more. You hurt no one. You saved your kit, and a number of other innocents.” Tears were streaming down her cheeks, dripping off her chin; she shook her head. People were _dying_. 

“ _Listen_ to me,” he growled. “You were nothing more than a catalyst – you set off a reaction that has been _centuries_ in the making. If it hadn’t been you, it would have been someone else, next week, next month – and they might not have been strong enough to live through it.” He dropped her hands and took her face between his palms, forcing her to acknowledge the truth in his gaze. 

She sniffled, drawing a tremulous breath and nodding. She needed to be strong; what’s done was done, and there was no more room for tears. 

“What are we going to do?” she asked, hating her voice for shaking as it did. Sesshoumaru’s eyes softened, and he pressed a kiss against her forehead. 

“We are going to face our foes together,” he rumbled, lifting her from her chair and cradling her against his chest, despite their audience. She closed her eyes and buried her face in his shoulder. When she was in his arms, it was so easy to believe that things would work out. 

The pensive silence was shattered by the clanging of the doorbell. Sesshoumaru wordlessly set her back in her own chair, his hand lingering on her cheek a moment longer than necessary. They heard the door open; the butler murmured something the humans couldn’t make out. 

The man who appeared at the kitchen door was the _last_ person Kagome expected to see. 

“Sir?” she gasped, staring at her boss. 

“Hello, Higurashi-san,” he called cheerfully, bulging eyes wandering in their vague way around the room. He inclined his head politely to the humans he didn’t know, then his eyes lit on the daiyoukai. 

“Ah, Sesshoumaru-sama,” he said, bowing. “It’s good to see your true face again.” 

“Toutousai,” the demon responded, inclining his head slightly. 

Kagome felt like a beached fish. For just a second more, she gaped. 

“I think I owe you an apology, Higurashi-san,” Toutousai started, settling himself in the only remaining chair before continuing. “I have been running an organization to protect youkai from their hunters for many years now, though most of what we’ve been doing lately is sheltering prison-camp runaways and trying to reunite them with their families. You were hired as a research curator, not an activist – but it seems that someone found out where I was based, and assumed that everyone involved in the museum was also involved with me. They weren’t picky about who showed up to collect that ‘donation,’ so long as they got one of mine.” His smile was chilling. “They will cause us no more trouble,” he added, inclining his head to Sesshoumaru as if in thanks. Kagome’s eyes narrowed at the gesture; what had Sesshoumaru done while she was unconscious? 

Toutousai smiled mirthlessly at her. “Perhaps it’s time to drop our pretenses.” He drew up his sleeve to reveal a bracelet much like Sesshoumaru’s – old, worn. He unclipped it, and his features stretched and elongated, turning him into a caricature of himself. 

For a moment, Kagome stared dumbly. “You’re a demon.” 

He nodded, grinning. “Fire elemental. And a smith, with a built-in forge. Who do you think makes all these bracelets?” 

She blinked at him; honestly, it had never occurred to her. Shippou already had one when his parents died – but of course, _someone_ had to be providing the youkai community with their concealments. And as for why they called him ‘the fire-breather’ – it was because he ... breathed fire. She shook her head. Irrelevant. Taking a deep breath, she tried to prioritize all this new information.

“I wasn’t attacked because of Shippou or Sesshoumaru. It was because I work for you.” 

“Guilty as charged, I’m afraid,” he muttered, casting a wary glance at Sesshoumaru, who was glaring at him. He winced. 

“And my apartment?” Kagome pressed, frowning. 

“Unlikely to be my fault; probably someone from the school recognized you,” he said with a shrug. He seemed remarkably unconcerned about that aspect of it, frankly; she almost felt offended. She sighed, coming to the unavoidable conclusion.

“And now everything’s gone to hell.” 

“That pretty much sums it up,” Toutousai agreed. “Although you put the fear of god into Ungai, which has saved us some trouble. The man’s gone completely paranoid – and the crazier he looks, the fewer people listen to him.”

She stared at the table, overwhelmed by the immensity of the situation. Wasn’t she supposed to be worrying about what would happen if the paparazzi caught her dates with Sesshoumaru, whether or not Shippou’s school was challenging him enough? Now, suddenly, her very civilization seemed to be collapsing in on itself. 

“What are we going to do?” she whispered again, trying not to sound as helpless, as hopeless as she felt. Sesshoumaru lay a clawed hand over hers. For what felt like eternity, no one spoke. 

Suddenly, Toutousai broke into maniacal laughter, drawing wary stares from all present. Wiping one rheumy eye as he restrained his mirth, he grinned at Kagome.

“I believe,” he said in his creaky voice, “that it’s time for the president and CEO of Taisho Corporation to have a press conference.”


	11. Chapter 11

Sesshoumaru’s first instinct was to resist; he had invited the old fire-demon to their council of war to discuss the possibility of creating new and better concealments, smaller items that masked youki as well as appearance. When Kagome frowned thoughtfully and sided with Toutousai, though, he found himself reconsidering. Suddenly the senile old geezer’s crazy ramblings became their gameplan. 

It took almost no time whatsoever to arrange an address live on national TV. At the promise that the famously reclusive celebrity would be giving a public statement about the anti-youkai movement, all the major news networks had leaped on it; it was publicized for days, and tremendous amounts of air-time and newspaper ink were spent speculating on what he was going to say and why he’d chosen to be so uncharacteristically public with his opinions. It was unanimously assumed that he would be speaking in support of the coalitions. Every other public figure who’d made similar statements had supported the anti-youkai movements in one way or another, whether or not they condoned the most recent violence; it was the only acceptable stance to take. 

Sesshoumaru fidgeted idly with his tie as the time drew near; Kagome smoothed it for him, her gentle hands calming him. 

“Kagome,” he said in a low voice, gripping her hand. “This could go badly.” 

“I know,” she whispered, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him. He took a breath; he had to tell her now. There might not be another chance. 

“There is a plane ready, in case you and the children need to get to safety quickly.” He wasn’t looking at her. She frowned, tugging gently on his tie to get his attention. 

“You’re coming with us if we go.” He could hear the panic in her voice, and it made his heart clench. He shook his head. 

“I am Lord of the West. As long as there are youkai to protect, I will protect them.” 

She caught his face in her hands, and he was shocked by the ferocity of her scowl. “I will not leave you,” she hissed. “If you stay, I stay. If anyone has to run away, my mother will take the children.” 

“Kagome—” She cut him off with a kiss. He would not be deterred. “It is too dangerous—”

“Sesshoumaru,” she interrupted. “Shut up.” She kissed him again, hard. There was so much he wanted to say; why hadn’t he said it before?

A network representative was waving at him; it was time. He met her eyes one last time. 

“I love you,” she whispered fiercely, her eyes not leaving his face. He found that he couldn’t speak. She let out a choke of laughter and waved him away. “Go get ’em, tiger.”

He nodded mutely and strode out onto the stage that had become his battlefield. 

... 

“Youkai are the greatest threat that human society has ever known,” he started, his low voice rumbling through the packed auditorium. Silence greeted his words. “So say the newspapers.” 

“The newspapers are wrong.” A low murmur went through the crowd – dissatisfaction, surprise. He waited until there was silence again. 

“The greatest threat humanity has ever known,” he continued, his voice ringing, “is fear. It is fear that drives good men, well-intentioned men, to hunt children as though they were animals, to lock innocent people away like criminals or beasts.” 

“They tell you,” he continued, this time ignoring the swelling sea of whispers, “that youkai are among you in secret, undermining your values, chipping away at the foundations of your society.” 

“I will tell you one truth: youkai are among you, without a doubt. They are your taxi drivers, your politicians, your waitresses, your bosses, your friends, your confidantes ...” He sent a meaningful glance to Kagome, who was standing just off-stage, hands clasped in front of her. “Your lovers.” 

“Some are fools; some are weak; some are cruel.” He glanced meaningfully around the room. “Just like humans.” 

“But there is another truth, one which has been overlooked: youkai want nothing more than to live. They want a world in which their children can grow up without fear; a world in which they can carve a small bit of happiness for themselves, and build a future with those they love.” He sighed, closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, they were hard, determined. 

“But today, I have not come to you to share difficult truths which no one will heed, nor my own irrelevant opinions. 

“I have come with a challenge.” He allowed the word to hang in the air for a moment, building a silent anticipation. His gaze swept the auditorium before he continued. 

“To humans, I say this: listen to your reason, trust your judgment. Your friends are as true to you today as they were yesterday. If your faithful, honorable companions are youkai, that means youkai can be faithful and honorable. If your kindly neighbor is a youkai, that means youkai can be kind. Do not fear the unknown; _learn_ it, and see that your fear is groundless. 

“To youkai, I say this: you have earned the trust of your human neighbors a hundred times over as individuals. This fear, this terror that drives humans to hunt you – it’s not fear of _you_ , it’s fear of a faceless, shadowy collective. Give yourselves faces. Reveal yourselves; let your friends and neighbors see you for what you truly are. Give them a chance to stand by you.” 

He took a deep breath, looking at the camera so directly that everyone watching felt as though he were meeting their eyes. 

“I’ll start.” 

The hall fell silent; no one breathed in the stillness as he deliberately held out his wrist and removed his concealment. He shut his eyes as the transformation washed over him; his hair lengthened to his knees and paled to moonlit silver, his stripes and crescent moon appeared, his nails and teeth stretched into claws and fangs. 

He opened golden eyes and fearlessly met the gaze of every viewer in Japan. 

“My name is Taisho Sesshoumaru, and I am youkai.”


	12. Chapter 12

There was a long moment of stunned silence before the auditorium burst into chaos. Sesshoumaru stood, the picture of silent dignity, while his human audience seethed like a stormy sea; some fled in terror, most railed in outrage. Still he stood, waiting. 

“Now,” he continued when the volume of his audience had died down somewhat, “I have trusted humanity with my greatest secret.” The auditorium had quieted again. “I have not changed since yesterday. Is there any human here who fears me no more now than you did then?”

The question was intended to be rhetorical, but a movement out of the corner of his eye startled him. He glanced to his left, and found Kagome emerging from the wings. His eyes begged her to stay back, to stay safe, to stay out of the public eye, but she strode resolutely toward him, her face lit with adoration. 

She reached his side, her eyes not wavering from his face. He held out his arm to her, and she stepped into his embrace, burying her face in his lapel. After a moment, she drew back, eyes glimmering with unshed tears. 

“My name is Higurashi Kagome,” she said, just loud enough that the microphone picked it up. “And I will never fear you.” Helpless to resist, Sesshoumaru pressed his lips against hers, drawing her tight against him. She returned his kiss with abandon. 

In that instant, all around Japan, youkai were shown that there were humans who could accept them. 

In Narita, Sesshoumaru’s housekeeper and her twin sister watched with teary eyes while the ‘young master’ revealed himself to the hateful gaze of humanity. At Kagome’s kiss, though, their eyes met; a decisive nod, and Ah and Un looked into each other’s scaled faces for the first time in a hundred years. 

In Kyoto, Japan’s only true supermodel pursed her painted lips at the screen, biting back a sigh that Taisho-san had finally been caught by another woman. Ah, well. She flicked off the TV and called her photographer. The following day, Kagura’s image was all over the media – with her natural red eyes, and her bare wrist held up in challenge. 

In Sapporo, the patrons of _The Purple Iris_ , the hippest club in Northern Japan, were faced with the fanged face of their outgoing proprietress, her red pigtails bobbing defiantly. 

In Okinawa, Japan’s favorite heartthrob started discussing a film about wolves with his packmates, his tail swishing in excitement for the first time in years. 

In Tokyo, all hell broke loose. 

Japan’s foremost criminal defense attorney took off his bracelet; he was a flea youkai.   
Japan’s most ruthless politician took off his bracelet; he was a spider hanyou.   
Japan’s most prominent medical researcher took off her bracelet; she was a phoenix youkai.   
Japan’s best-loved television psychiatrist took off his bracelet; he was a magnolia tree youkai.  
Japan’s most vocal civil rights activist took off her bracelet; she was a bat hanyou.  
Japan’s most decorated general took off his bracelet; he was a dragon.   
Japan’s most celebrated artist took off her bracelet; she was a thunder elemental. 

It took several days for youkai to gain courage, but following the example of the braver celebrities, they gradually did. Across the country, humans saw their friends and neighbors shimmer and change, reappearing with markings on their skin or different-colored hair and eyes. 

In her apartment in downtown Tokyo, where she’d been hiding for nearly a week, Yura stood before her bathroom mirror and watched as her hair turned a dark, rich green; with a grin, she patted her bob and preened, magenta eyes sparkling. In the Taisho mansion, the butler rubbed at his green beak and squawked in irritation when he tripped over his own webbed feet. In the living room of the Sunset Shrine, Kotoko bit her lip as Kagome’s brother and mother gaped at her hanyou cat ears. In _Jin’s_ , Jinenji and Manten looked at each other in trepidation, terrified of human reactions to their ugliness – but the few regulars who appeared at their door were only hesitant, not horrified. The children, while curious at first, soon forgot that they had ever known anything different, and played happily on the new swings. 

Gradually, gradually, the tide of public opinion turned. After a week, the mobs were a memory. After a month, the bolder youkai hesitantly began returning to work, walking the streets openly without concealments. After a year, youkai children were back in school. Ungai was tried for kidnapping and unlawful restraint; the anti-youkai coalitions dissolved under the weight of public outrage, as humans learned the truth about their neighbors’ children’s ‘illnesses’ and ‘extended holidays.’ Eventually, all the kidnapped children were reunited with their families, the imprisoned youkai adults released. In bars, in conference rooms, in courts, the braver humans defended their youkai friends and coworkers from lingering bigotry and discrimination, until gradually, gradually, even that faded. 

In the meanwhile, Kagome and Sesshoumaru had some planning to do. 

“I’m not wearing a bloody twelve-layer kimono, dammit,” Kagome groused. “Or a wig.” 

“It is tradition,” Sesshoumaru rumbled, lifting one of his mother’s formal kimonos carefully out of its trunk. It was made from white moth-youkai silk, and glittered in the sunlight like spun glass. By his elbow, Kagome gasped. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” she yelped, waving her arms frantically. “I’m not wearing _that_.” 

He quirked an eyebrow at her. 

“Sesshoumaru,” she pleaded, “this is _me_ we’re talking about. I put that on, the first thing I do is going to be to knock over an ink pot or pour a glass of wine on myself. No. _Hell_ no. I’m not a risking an artifact that rare or that beautiful—”

Her tirade was interrupted by a pair of warm lips. 

“Rare,” he murmured against her jaw, “yes, indeed.” His lips moved down to her throat. “Beautiful, oh yes,” he whispered against her skin, making her shiver. “Nothing,” he finished, nipping gently at her ear, “could be better suited to you.” 

She moaned and allowed him to pull her flush against his hard body, arching under his hands. 

“Mate,” he murmured into her hair as her hands grasped the firm flesh of his ass, belatedly realizing that they were unlikely to get anything accomplished today if they continued. “We have planning to do.” Her tongue was working some kind of sorcery on his collarbone; he felt his spine prickle in anticipation. “Your mother wants your wedding dress chosen by this evening.”

“I can think of any number of things I’d rather be doing,” she answered with a wicked smirk. “And not one of them involves clothing.” 

With a groan of surrender, Sesshoumaru lifted her into his arms and left the details of the human ceremony for another day. Now that they were mated, she would share his lifespan; there was no hurry. The worst of the darkness had passed, and what lay ahead of them was a long, long lifetime of sunshine.


End file.
